Prejudiced
by Jola123
Summary: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single pureblood wizard in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. A pureblood wife of course. Well one with good connections to those who matter in the ministry. Or at least one with a good enough fortune herself. / A Pride and Prejudice inspired Dramione. Rated M mostly for language (and future lemons).
1. Chapter 1

_Three things you should know about me and this story. 1: This is my first fanfiction, so please bear with me. I hope... no! I'm sure, my writing will get better. 2: I'm not a native speaker. My last English lesson was like 10 years ago (how the hell did that happen?!). If you find mistakes or something sounds odd, do say so and I'll change it. 3: I've just begun this story so I have no idea, where it'll lead us in the end..._

 _Now, without further ado, I'd look to thank two of my favorite J's in the world: J.K. Rowling and Jane Austen. Thank you for your stories, characters etc. They're all yours and I love you for them!_

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It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single pureblood wizard in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. A pureblood wife of course. Well one with good connections to those who matter in the ministry. Or at least one with a good enough fortune herself.

Well, in the case of Hermione Granger - muggleborn, no real influence in the ministry and no so called fortune anywhere in sight - you could say she didn't really fit that scheme. At all.

Good for her, she wasn't looking for a husband, pureblooded or not. After the war had ended, she and Ron tried to start a relationship. Quite soon it turned out that they just knew too much of each other and felt more like brother and sister than boyfriend and girlfriend. So just a few weeks into their romance, it was already over. They decided to stay friends though the summer hadn't been long enough to let the awkwardness between the two of them go away. While Hermione sat in the Hogwarts Express staring out the window she wondered what surprises her last year in the now restored castle of the greatest school of witchcraft and wizardry held for her. Nothing romantically related for sure. That was still in the far away future. Or so you might think.

"Oi, Harry, 'Mione" Ron said to his best friends. They were sitting in the Great Hall at the quite packed Gryffindor table. Additional chairs had been added to all the house tables to make enough room for the eight years. Only a hand full of pupils had accepted the ministry's offer to re-do the last school year and finish their education. McGonagall had just finished her speech as headmistress of Hogwarts and opened the feast to start the new school year. "Can you believe Malfoy really dared to show up here again? The bloody Death Eater should have stayed away from here!"

Hermione just pretended to not hear Ron. After all, it was really loud in the Great Hall, so no problem to ignore him. Harry just shrugged his shoulders and continued eating. Since the end of the war, he wasn't really interested in anything related to Death Eaters, dark wizards or dangerous magical objects. All he wanted was some quiet to finally be able and grieve those that war lost during the war. The summer had been horrible with journalists trying to get him to answer their questions. Somehow, they managed to find him, no matter where he tried to hide.

"I still think the Wizengamot was bonkers for letting that krite and his mother go," Ron continued. "They should have put the two of them in a cell right next to his father."

Neither Hermione, nor Harry made an answer.

"No way! Did you see whose sitting next to him?" the redhead called out.

"Just tell us already," Harry replied and rubbed his side that Ron just elbowed.

"It's all of them! Zabini, Nott, Parkinson, even Goyle showed up! All the scum showed up again. McGonagall should have forbidden it." Harry just huffed while his friend continued his rant. "During the train ride, Seamus told me that he heard his mother's friend telling his mum that her neighbour, you know, the strange one with the eight cats who's working in the ministry? Well he heard the minister's secretary talking to one of the office people or wait... Maybe it was someone working in the offices talking to the minister's secretary? Doesn't matter, so his mum's friends neighbour-"

"Just spit it out Ron! The train ride was hell with everyone trying to get into our compartment. I just need a minute of silence!"

"Mate! Sorry, I forgot for just a sec how much you disliked people trying to be friendly."

"Ron," Harry gritted through his teeth.

"Okay, okay. No need to get all pissed, man. Seamus told me, the ministry decided to release the fortune of the 'unimportant' Death Eaters and those whose kids had to go back to school"

"And that's such a scandal because...?" Harry asked. He didn't see why the ministry should have continued to withhold their fortune. For all he knew, everyone involved with Voldemort had been to a trial. The Wizengamot either sent the ones found guilty to Azkaban, or had them pay for all the destruction the war caused.

"Don't you get it?! Death Eaters, Harry! Dark, evil, no good? Remember those?"

Harry didn't say anything and just rubbed his forehead fight another bad headache. Though his scar didn't hurt anymore like it had when Voldemort was still alive, he was in near constant pain. The mediwitches at St. Mungos didn't have an answer for that. Some thought it was due to the horcrux being removed, others told him he probably was hit by a spell during the last battle, then again there were some who told him it was stress related.

"'Mione, please tell me at least you understand why I'm angry. Shacklebolt must be nuts! How could he agree to that! It's like they haven't done anything bad at all!"

Hermione was just about to answer, when Ron thankfully decided to stuff his face with the delicious spread in front of them. So instead she whispered to Harry whether he was okay with their old Slytherin classmates being back as well.

Again, he just shrugged. "Even if I wasn't, I couldn't do a thing about it. So why bother?"

For a few seconds Hermione watched the dark haired wizard. He's not coping well with the past year, she thought noticing the dark circles under his eyes. Concerned about her friend, she decided to ask someone for help if he didn't get better soon. Maybe McGonagall had an idea as to what to do. And as far as the Slytherins returning to school, the young witch thought, Harry was right. If they couldn't do anything about it, why bother?


	2. Chapter 2

_And here's the next chapter. It's rather short, but there'll be longer chapter in the future. Also, I probably won't be able to update every day, more likely once or twice a week. It all depends on the creative juices. I hope, you enjoy this one. :)  
_

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Harry Potter was among the first Hogwarts students who talked to the Slytherin eighth years. During the summer he had decided, that if they should decide to return, he would make two things clear right away. First, that he was okay with them being back. Second, that he wouldn't hesitate to hex them to hell if they bothered him or his friends.

Again, that Great Hall was buzzing with life as it was the first day of school and the students used breakfast to tell each other about what they had been up to this past summer. Ron as usual was shovelling porridge in his mouth. Hermione was reading her new ancient runes book, or rather trying to do so. The disgusting noises Ron made while eating distracted her a little too much to focus. Harry on the other hand just sat there. He stared broodingly into his pumpkin juice. Suddenly realising he hadn't told his best friends about his discussion with the Slytherins, Harry said:

"I spoke to them on the train."

"WHAT!" Ron yelled spraying the table - and Hermione's book - with bits of half chewed porridge.

"Eww! Ron, watch it," the girl cried out. She took the wand lying next to her cup of tea and mumbled a cleaning spell to vanish the mess.

Ron turned bright red, swallowed and turned his still bewildered eyes back to Harry. "What do you mean, you talked to them?"

"Who has talk to whom?" Ginny asked and sat down across from the trio. She just came down and was still looking a little sleepy.

"No need for you to know about it," Ron retorted.

"She already knows, so don't worry," Harry said again rubbing his forehead. Ron was really getting on his nerves these last few weeks being the overprotective big brother and now bitching on about the Slytherins. Ignoring his friends gaping, he continued, "When I went to the toilet on the Hogwarts Express, I bumped into Malfoy and Nott." Ron's face turned red and he threw a hate filled glance over his shoulder to the other side of the Great Hall. "Nott immediately turned around and left. Malfoy on the other hand just stayed looking at me."

"You should have hexed the scum!" Ron yelled, "it was a onetime chance! Why didn't you-"

Hermione punched him in the shoulder. "If you don't stop your bitching and let Harry tell what happened, I swear you'll regret it, Ron Weasley," she said looking him square in the eye.

"I was just saying that-"

"Ron!" Hermione's glare had turned to ice. She could almost feel herself how Harry's patience slowly ended and a new headache started. Maybe she should ask Madame Pomfrey for a pain potion for her friend? That way he would at least suffer less from those migraines. "Please go on, Harry."

"There's not much left to mention," Harry mumbled closing his eyes. Oh no, Hermione thought and shared a worried look with Ginny, that's going to be one of the bad headaches. "Malfoy just looked at me, then the ground, then mumbled something about it being too early to try to explain so he wouldn't start. I told him that we wouldn't bother any of them as long as they did the same. He nodded and left."

"Okay, that's not bad right?" Hermione asked. "That was almost friendly for the two of you. Maybe this year will pass without any incidents?"

Though Ron made a rather rude remark about never trusting dirty snakes, the others decided to ignore him. Ginny nodded in agreement to what the other girl had said. She then grabbed her boyfriend's hand. "Come, we can chill in the common room for half an hour before lessons start." Turning to the bushy haired witch she asked, "you've got Potions first, right? Harry can drop me of at Flitwick's when going down to the dungeons."


	3. Chapter 3

_Hello everyone! I just noticed that the first people are following my story. Thanks guys, you're amazing! And thank you so much for the first two reviews. You made my day! Hope you'll enjoy this chapter and if you find a mistake or you have any suggestions, don't hesitate to review.  
_

* * *

As the eighth year students were waiting for Professor Slughorn, Hermione stood a little to the side to observe her classmates. Because there were only so many of them now, they had all classes together. She noticed that most students had stayed close to their housemates.

Her own house lingered to the right of the classroom door, Neville and Harry closest to it, whereas the five Slytherins stood left from it. The three Ravenclaws sat on the floor across from them already deep in their books. Hannah Abbot and Ernie Macmillan, the only Hufflepuffs who had returned, still waited near the stairs that led to the dungeons. Hermione was watching Ron and Seamus leaning against the stone wall. Both boys were eyeing the Slytherins suspiciously. She moved just a little to have a better view at them as well.

Pansy Parkinson was quietly talking to Nott and Goyle, her nose not as high in the air as was her habit. Her voice sounds a little off, but maybe that's due to the hallway's acoustics, Hermione thought turning her eyes to the next student.

Zabini's bag was carelessly lying next to him on the floor. His attention was fully occupied with the fingernails of his right hand. He didn't move, just stared at his nails. Hermione couldn't prevent her eyebrow from rising. She had never seen someone so focused on his nails. Finally, she moved on to the last Slytherin.

Malfoy was standing on the far left, his pale face completely expressionless. Though he had grown a few centimetres, he hadn't changed much over the summer. His body was still the prototype of a seeker, lean with muscular arms and shoulders. Maybe his hair had grown a little longer. And it looked more ruffled than the last night. He reminds me of Harry, she mused, definitely lacking sleep and looking too sombre for his own health.

Finally, Professor Slughorn opened the door.

"Well, well, well!" he called jovially beaming at the teenagers in the hallway. "Hogwarts' first and last eighth year students! In with you lot. But don't sit down. I had a capital idea. Capital, indeed!" Slughorn closed the door with a big smile. "As there are only fifteen of you and you're all having potions together, I thought to myself. Well, Horace, I thought. Why not mix 'em up? Why not?" His smile grew even bigger. He now resembled a really, really happy walrus. "So, for the rest of the year, you'll be working in these groups of two or three." With a flick of his wand a list of names appeared on the board:

Group A - Parkinson, Boot, Macmillan

Group B - Patil, Finnigan, Zabini

Group C - Turpin, Potter, Nott

Group D - Abbott, Longbottom

Group E - Goyle, Weasley

Group F - Granger, Malfoy

All eyes turned to the board. There was a short stunned silence, than-

"I'm NOT working with Goyle!", Ron almost shouted. "Professor, you can't be serious!"

Slughorn's smile faltered for just a second. "Mister Weasley, I know you've always partnered up with Mister Potter. It's understandable you'd like to keep it that way with him being such a natural with the art of potions." Hermione just rolled her eyes at this, knowing Snape's book was the only reason for Harry's success. And said book was now gone. "But I'm pretty sure," the professor continued, "that your classmates would like to profit from your friends talent as well. And I'm sure Mister Goyle and you will work together quite well. So please take your seats. Trios in the front row, pairs behind them." With that, he waddled off to his desk in the front of the class.

Hannah and Neville were the first to walk to their assigned desk. They were relieved to have been partnered up with each other. Reluctantly, everyone else moved as well. The three trios moved to the front, the Slytherins looking the least at ease. Ron stomped angrily to the workplace directly behind Harry's group, sat down and crossed his arms in front of him. Goyle wisely tried to keep his distance, but that wasn't easy because of his broad frame. He eyed the read head carefully.

Draco turned to Hermione without looking her in the eyes. Not showing any emotion he gestured for her to go first and then followed her to their table. Keep breathing, the girl thought, just keep breathing and everything will end fine.

At first, Hermione, the brightest witch of her year, had thought Professor Slughorn's idea to be brilliant. Finally a concrete step towards inter-house unity! Plus she needed immaculate scores because she planned on starting a career in potions after leaving school. So just one partner for the whole school year would have been great. They could easily split the work and perfect their respective jobs. But the second she had seen her name next to Malfoy's, her stomach had turned to ice. Working with one of the Gryffindors or Ravenclaws would have been great. Hannah and Ernie were nice partners as well. She could have also done with Blaise or Theo or even uppity Pansy. Yet the boy who had bullied her since her first year? Who had called her vile names? In whose house she had been tortured and marked for live? Her heart was beating a million miles a minute. The never fading pain from her cursed scar intensified. Sure, she had testified in front of the Wizengamot that Draco and Narcissa Malfoy had indeed saved them. But how should she be able to work with him? Even if she could keep a calm head and hand, _he_ would never lower himself to work with her, a muggleborn. Especially not because potions had always been the one subject he surpassed her and she was positive he wouldn't let that change.

As Slughorn explained the year's curriculum, Hermione couldn't concentrate on anything the professor said. She was hyper-aware of the unmoving Slytherin sitting next to her and couldn't stop repeating in her head: "You are screwed. Your scores are screwed. Your future is screwed."


	4. Chapter 4

_Guys, you're amazing! Each knew follower makes me smile. I just updated the third chapter to make it more clear why Hermione thought she was ruined (thanks_ Lena2244 _for mentioning that). Have fun with chapter 4._

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Hermione wasn't surprised that Ron had managed to get detention not even an hour into the class. The way he did it... Well, it was slightly alarming because he had tried to stab Goyle's hand with his cutting knife. He claimed his potions partner had been provoking him with snide comments about his family. Professor Slughorn just looked at him and disappointedly about this blatant lie shook his head. It hadn't escaped his attention that neither of the Slytherin students talked during his class. Not even Parkinson had said a word once her group had divided the tasks for their assigned potion.

So, that evening, only Harry and Hermione were sitting in their favourite armchairs near the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room and told Ginny about their day. The red head expressed to her friends just how very strange she thought the Slytherins behaved.

"So, you're saying that they didn't act like their usual arrogant selves," asked she, "no boastful comments or rude remarks whatsoever?"

"Exactly," replied Hermione. "Not even Goyle uttered a word although Ron kept nudging him 'by accident' while stirring their potion."

"I was more surprised, Malfoy didn't make a scene about being partnered up with you," Harry replied staring into the flames. "Hermione, are you okay working with him? After everything that happened at the Manor?"

"Why shouldn't I be?" the witch asked, her voice a little too high. "Professor Slughorn paired the two of us, so I guess it'll have to work." Ginny threw her a sceptical glance. Thinking for a minute Hermione then admitted, "Well... I was slightly freaking out sitting next to him."

"I noticed," Harry mumbled.

"What? How did you-"

"Oh come on, Hermione," he interrupted her. "After spending so much time together over the last year and during this summer, you don't think I can read you just a little bit? You were close to hyperventilating and grabbing the spoon as hard as a lifeline."

She blushed at that comment. "It's just... I- I still have problems dealing with the memories. When something reminds me of what happened, what that did to me... My body just goes into panic mode." Both, Harry and Ginny nodded in affirmatively. A lot of people felt the same way when confronted with a trigger. "Malfoy didn't do anything though. I promise. He didn't look at me in a strange way, didn't say anything than was absolutely necessary. Our pepperup potion even turned out... well, if not perfect, than at least close to it. Maybe... maybe he has changed..."

"Maybe... But promise to tell us if he does anything", Ginny urged her, not convinced Malfoy could change that much. "One false move and he'll become acquainted with my Bat-Bogey Hex."

Hermione nodded, then turned to Harry. "How did it go with Lisa and Theo?"

When he just shrugged, she took a deep breath. She hated that he avoided expressing an opinion whenever possible. Most of the time, he was just sitting there steering clear of conversations whenever possible. He still hadn't found a way to cope with last year's happenings. No trigger was needed to evoke the atrocities and cruelties he had witnessed.

Ginny leaned forward to give her boyfriend a kiss on the cheek. "I'm going upstairs. The first days of school are always so tiring. Good night Harry, night Hermione!"

Shortly after the youngest Weasley had left, the friends also went up to their dorm rooms. It seemed as though Ron still wasn't done with his detention. And assuming he would be in no mood to say anything sensible, it was better to avoid him completely.

Down in the dungeons, the five eighth year students sat in a corner discussing the day. Most of them had earned their fair share of hate filled glances. Blaise less than Pansy or Theo, but some second year Gryffindors had tried to hex him when he was returning from dinner. Luckily, Professor Sprout exited the Great Hall in the same instant. The second years quickly hid their wants and ran away. Without a word, Sprout had turned around to go to her greenhouses.

While Pansy's and Theo's day had been slightly better, Greg complained about having to work with Weasley for potions. "Did you see he was pushing me the whole time?", he ranted. "I couldn't even cut that damn Mandrake root!"

"Everyone noticed what Weasel did," Pansy answered patting his hand.

"Yeah man, he was acting like an arse," Theo added. "Did earn him some detention, didn't it?"

"And when he tried to stab me with that filthy knife... Argh! I wish I could just-", Greg started when Blaise interrupted him.

"We all wish we could just! But don't forget what McGonagall told us: one misstep and we're out of here." The black boy's face turned pensive. "We have to be subtle... Nobody can know that we did something against the rules. Drake, any idea how to make Weaselbe pay?"

Draco was leaning back in his chair, his head against the headrest, eyes closed. Slowly, he opened them just the tiniest bit. "Even if I had, I wouldn't tell you. If the ministry gets wind of me only looking the wrong way at someone, they'll put me in front of the Wizengamot again. And I'm pretty sure that this time, no Potter or Granger would vouch for my innocence." He settled more deeply into the armchair's dark green satin and closed his eyes again.

When Blaise opened his mouth in return, Theo shot him a look and silently shook his head. Ever since Lucius was in Azkaban and Narcissa had her break down after her own trial, Draco hadn't been his old self.

"I guess, I'll call it a night," Blaise finally said. "Guys, you're coming too?"

Wordlessly, Theo and Greg stood up and followed their friend to their dorm. Pansy stayed back waiting for Draco.

"Would you like me to stay here with you," she asked the blond wizard. The hopeful look in her eyes was unseen for Draco remained unmoving. "I don't mind staying here with you for a little longer."

Her heart was beginning to beat faster, when the boy abruptly stood as well. He nodded curtly in her direction and strode of towards his dorm room. Pansy heaved a sigh watching him. I will get him to talk to me and make him see what a perfect match we would be, she thought and then left as well.


	5. Chapter 5

_Happy Monday! I hope you all have a great start of the week. Friday, I'm going to Paris for a few days. I think I'll be able to update before that again, so stay tuned. As always: I really appreciate each and every follower and review so much!_

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Luna 'Loony' Lovegood was sitting on a log by the Great Lake and enjoyed the warm October sun while looking through her notes about Nargles. She planned to write her final paper in Care of Magical Creatures. It was more than time for someone to publish a scientific paper about these amazing creatures. Surely, Hagrid would approve of her choice and help her to convince McGonagall to accept it as well. When she mentioned it to the headmistress last summer near the end of her sixth year, her reaction hadn't been the best.

"Do you mind if I join you?", Hermione asked approaching the blond girl.

"Not at all", Luna replied. "I'm almost done revising my notes. Here, take a butterbeer cork necklace." She offered the necklace to her friend. "Nargles tend to gather, once they notice someone writes or talks about them."

"Eh...", Hermione started with a confused smile. "Thanks Luna, I don't think that'll be necessary." She sat down next to her on the log. "Why are your writing about Nargles? Did your father ask you to publish a new article about them in The Quibbler?"

"Oh no. Tomorrow, I'm going to ask Hagrid to help me talk to McGonagall. I'm sure, together, we can convince her to accept the lifecycle of Nargles as my final paper's subject."

"Sure...," Hermione replied not convinced at all. "How have the first few weeks been? We really need to talk more often."

"They've been kind of orange."

Hermione shot her a confused look, but decided not to further inquire. "Did you notice anything extraordinary happen?"

"Just the usual. Although...," Luna hesitated what caused the other witch to frown worriedly. "I think some Wrackspurts have infested the Ravenclaw common room again. When I ask someone a question, they seem not to hear me if I don't repeat myself at least twice."

"What a shame." Hermione relaxed visibly. "So, apart from that, the other students didn't act strange or something?"

"You mean like Draco trying to be invisible? Or you more or less secretly looking for him in the hallways or the Great Hall so you can avoid him?" The Gryffindor blushed a deep red. "Nope, nothing out of order."

"I- I don't..."

"Don't worry," Luna smiled at her and grabbed her hand. "I didn't tell anyone how much his presence stresses you. I felt the same when I first saw him. His hair is exactly the same as his father's. I couldn't help recalling what happened at the Malfoy Manor. The pain, the anguish I felt, the feeling of hopelessness..." She turned quiet and stared across the black water.

"What did you do to make it stop?", Hermione silently inquired.

"It wasn't him who tortured me", Luna began, but was interrupted by the Gryffindor.

"He could at least have tried to help you or make them stop or-"

"No, he couldn't..."

"But-"

"... and if you think about it, you'll come to the same conclusion."

The girls stayed silent for a few minutes, both deep in thoughts.

"So, that's what has helped you not to panic when you see him?", Hermione hesitantly asked her friend.

"Yes. I forgave him, because he isn't evil", was her short reply. She then suddenly returned her attention back to her notes asking the other girl whether she should add a list of all published articles about Nargles or if a selection of the more important work would suffice.


	6. Chapter 6

_Bonjour! Tomorrow, I'll be in Paris! Can't wait to see the city again and refill my creativity. I probably won't update this weekend, but as promised, here's the next chapter. We'll see some more Hermione/Draco interaction, but not so much. I still try to stick whenever possible to the structure of Pride and Prejudice, plus_ _I have already a few more chapters written._ _Speaking ofthat: I still can't decide on who will be my Mr. Wickham. Any suggestions?_

 _As always: if you find any mistakes or just want to give a feedback, feel free to review. It sure spurs my wirting. ;-)_

* * *

The eighth years soon followed a pattern. During breaks and before and after lessons, everyone avoided the five Slytherin students. In class, they only worked with them if necessary. Potions turned out to be rather tiring for everybody because Ron still tried to boycott his partner. Once again, he had managed to completely ruin Goyle's work. Red in the face, the tall boy stood up and asked to be excused for the remaining class.

"Why, what is the matter," Professor Slughorn asked him. He approached their table and noticed the powdered Doxy eggs strewn across the work place.

"Not feeling well, Sir", Goyle mumbled balling his large hands to fists.

"Ah yes. Sometimes the smell of Doxy eggs tends to affect people. Go to Madame Pomfrey's and ask her for some pepper up potion. I'm sure she still has some of Miss Granger's and Mister Malfoy's potion stored away. That will make you feel better in no time."

Goyle just nodded, grabbed his bag and left the room.

"As to you, Mister Weasley," Slughorn turned his eyes to the red head who had been smirking rather content with himself. The rest of the class was silently watching the professor looking into the copper cauldron Ron was stirring carelessly. "Despite the correct ingredients Mister Goyle so thoroughly prepared, you managed to not read the instructions attentively enough. Three stirs clockwise, one stir counterclockwise." With a small swish of his wand, he vanished the potion. "You will need to stay a little longer and redo everything. The potion has to simmer on a very low flame for three days before we can continue working on it." He turned and faced the rest of the eighth years. "Back to work!"

"Serves him right," Hermione mumbled mortar still in hand. When she heard a small chuckle from besides her, her eyes widened. Fuck, she thought, I said that out loud. Slowly, she turned towards her potions partner, ready to throw him a scathing glance.

"Don't worry," the Slytherin whispered to her and added with a wink, "I won't tell the Weasel."

Stunned into silence, Hermione turned back to her Doxy eggs. With flaming cheeks, she carefully continued to turn them into a fine powder. She was so confused by Malfoy's behaviour, that she didn't notice him watching her trough the corner of his eye.

The blond boy had at first scarcely allowed himself to admit that he rather liked working with the golden girl. He had been sure that their shared past - him bullying her since their first year, then her being tortured in his home - would prevent them from achieving anything acceptable. But no sooner had he made it clear to himself that this year's potion class was doomed, than he began to think of Hermione as an uncommonly suitable partner for him. They both tended to follow the teacher's instructions precisely. But whenever they thought it would benefit a potion to be stirred just once more or that half an ounce opposed to one and a half ounces of frog brain would be enough, they acted on this feeling. With success, judged by Slughorn's reactions. To this first discovery succeeded some others equally enlightening. Though over the years he hadn't refrained to enlist more than one failure in her appearance, he was now forced to acknowledge her body to be rather pleasing. Sometime during the last year she had developed curves on all the right places, although she apparently tried to hide the fact beneath her loose school uniform. And in spite of his asserting that her behaviour certainly marked her as a muggleborn, he was caught by her perfect manners and, more surprisingly, her easy playfulness when engaging with her friends. Why he hadn't taken notice of that side, he wasn't sure. Well, to be honest, he knew exactly why. Up until a few months ago, he had thought himself and his follow poorblooded students above all halfbloods or muggleborns. So naturally, all he had ever done was to seek faults in her. Now... now that was slowly changing. But of this Hermione was perfectly unaware; to her he was still the boy who thought of himself as far better than others and whose father had tried to kill not only her, but her friends as well.

He began to wish to know more of her, and as a step to do so, started to look for her in the library. Once he spotted her curly mane, he went to a desk in the same aisle (but never the one next to her, mind you!) to do his homework. His doing so drew her notice. It was on a rainy Sunday afternoon in the middle of November, when she had met up with Luna who needed to write a cubit long essay on the causes and consequences of the fourth goblin war.

"What does Malfoy mean," whispered she to the Ravenclaw, "by choosing a desk so close to us?"

"There are a lot of Ravenclaw third years in here today. Maybe he wanted to keep his distance from them because of the Wrackspurts?"

"Still," she shot the blond boy a worried glance, "it doesn't explain why he always chooses to do so."

"That is a question which only Malfoy can answer."

"He's freaking me out!" She angrily took out another sheet of parchment. "Why doesn't he stay away like he used to do? I need to focus on this paper for McGonagall!"

When Luna looked up to reply, she noticed her friend's face had suddenly gone white as a ghost. Following her line of sight, she looked over her shoulder. Draco had just stood up and was walking in their direction book in hand. Although he didn't look at them, Hermione froze in place. Rigidly, she grabbed her transfiguration notes to hide behind them.

Draco put the book back in its shelf, but before he could return to his desk, Luna asked, "Are the Wrackspurts bothering you?"

Confused, he turned to look at Luna. "Sorry?"

"The Wrackspurts," she smiled up at him, "are they bothering you? I know they can be quite annoying."

"Er..." he looked to Hermione for some help, but she still hid behind her notes. "I'm not sure?" he answered hesitantly.

"If I had my Spectrespecs, we could try to find and catch them. But I must have forgotten them at home," the Ravenclaw continued. "Doesn't matter now, does it? You should come sit with us," she suggested and smiled up at the bewildered boy. Neither of them noticed how Hermione cringed at that suggestion. "Only positive thoughts can dispel Wrackspurts and I've been thinking them all day long. McGonagall has finally agreed with my idea for the final paper."

"I- I need t-to leave now," he stuttered. "But thanks." Very briskly he walk to his desk, packed his books, feathers and parchment roll into his bag and left the library. Behind him, Luna had returned her attention to the goblin wars while Hermione just focused on breathing.

Back down in the dungeons, Pansy looked up to see a distressed Draco sitting down on the sofa across from her. "Where have you been, Draco?"

"What did they do now?", Blaise who sat next to the Pansy asked angrily before his friend could answer. "I swear we'll get them. I don't care shit about what McGonagall said! How can she allow those bloody Gryffindorks, smart asses and Puffs to treat our house like that?!"

"Nothing's wrong," Draco sighed and rubbed a hand across his face.

"Something must have happened," Blaise insisted.

"Believe me, it was nothing. Lovegood just asked me to sit with her and Hermione in the library and I kind of panicked."

His friends gaped at him. Pansy was the first to find her voice again. "Loony Lovegood wanted you to sit with her and that mudblood?"

"Don't call her that!," Draco snapped. The black haired girl raised an eyebrow looking at the boy in front of her. "And yes, she asked. I freaked out. That's it. Nothing happened." He slung his bag around his shoulders and quickly stood up. "I'm going to take a nap," said he and left his stunned classmates back in the common room.


	7. Chapter 7

_Bonjour! I'm back from Paris and it was amazing. Honestly, I adore this city so much. As I already told you, I didn't write a word while on my trip, but volià, here's the next chapter. Thank you for reviewing my story. Every comment made my day. And concerning the Wickham-question: I stilll haven't fully decided what to do about that... Hope you enjoy reading this chapter and please review and let me know what you're thinking about it._

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Most of the eighth years were already of full age. To oblige to this fact, their living quarter consisted not only of dorm rooms, but also adjoining bathrooms and a small room, no bigger than a broom cupboard, for a fireplace. Unfortunately, headmistress McGonagall had made an arrangement with the ministry to only open the floo on the weekends.

Yet, she had agreed to let the students go to Hogsmeade each day once the last class ended. Provided their academic achievements were found to be reasonably adequate.

After the war, anti-apparition wards had been installed all throughout the small wizarding village as well as along the path leading to Hogwarts. Although some of the eighth years complained how inconvenient these spells were that prevented them from quickly apparating, most of them usually walked to Hogsmeade once or twice a week. Ron and Seamus were particularly frequent visitors; their want for stronger beverages than the pumpkin juice and rarely offered butterbeer often led them to the Three Broomsticks Inn. And however few other guests they met there, the two boys always managed to learn some news about Death Eaters on the flight or other information the ministry would have preferred not to become common knowledge. That evening though, they entered the common room (heavily smelling of fire whiskey) ready to boast about their latest drinking buddy. Apparently, Viktor Krum was promoting his team's latest collection of fan articles to polish their damaged image. The still ongoing investigations had proven that Voldemort's followers had received an enormous amount of Bulgarian galleons over the last years. So for time coming, Krum gave interviews and signed broom handles, hats and quidditch posters to improve the Bulgarian's image. Their visits to Madam Rosmerta were now more appealing than ever. Every evening – and part of each night – added something to their knowledge of the great seeker.

After listening one morning to their remarks on Krum's favourite broom polish, Hermione coolly observed:

"From all that you've said so far about carefully handling and caressing, I can only hope you were talking about brooms, not 'brooms'."

Seamus blushed bright red and made no answer, whereas Ron simply ignored her comment. He continued to express his admiration of Krum's flying skills and his hope of seeing him play in the next world cup again.

"It's a wonder you haven't asked him on a date yet," remarked Ginny. Harry who just took a sip of his morning tea spit it out across the table and burst out laughing.

"Ew! Watch it, Harry," Hermione cried out smilingly. She couldn't care less for the mess he just made. Finally, after countless shrugs, after months of apathy, her friend had shown some kind of emotion!

"Well it's true," Ginny grinned. "He sounds like a lovesick puppy."

"I don't!" Ron slammed his fist on the table spattering Harry's tea even further.

"You sure do, dear brother. Stop denying it."

While the siblings bickered on, the morning post arrived. Hermes, Harry's now owl, brought his owner the Daily Prophet as well as a sealed letter. He nuzzled the boys hair and hurried back out the window. Contrary to Hedwig, Hermes was a barn owl who didn't like the hustle in the great hall. Ignoring the newspaper, Harry opened his letter.

"Ugh," groaned he. "An invitation from Slughorn. _Meet me tonight at seven o'clock for an exquisite supper in the best society._ Guess he wants to continue his Slug Club." He looked apologetically at his girlfriend. "Sorry Gin, there's no plus one mentioned."

"You'll manage just fine without me, I'm sure of it," said the red head. "And I'll just use the opportunity to spent the evening with Herm-"

The arrival of a large eagle owl landing in front of the bushy haired girl stopped her. Hermione took the sealed letter and offered the bird a chunk of her breakfast muffin which it gracefully accepted before taking off again. Opening and quickly scanning the paper, she sighed. "I'll have to go to professor Slughorn, too. I'm sorry Ginny."

"Where's my invitation?," Ron asked looking around. "I have to be invited as well. After all, I'm a war hero."

Harry wisely hid behind the Prophet and the girls excused themselves. None of them wanted to explain why Slughorn possibly could have decided to not send Ron an invitation.

Hermione was in a better mood than most of this school year. Harry had finally laughed, the foggy November morning had turned into a sunny afternoon and she didn't have to worry about Draco because she didn't see him all day long. Feeling really well, she was determined to enjoy the evening as much as possible. Slughorn's parties were indeed annoying, but he always offered awesome drinks and foods. She explained her decision to Harry.

"Just promise me to not leave without me," muttered her friend on their way down to the dungeons. "And if he has invited any journalists please help me fight them off."

Hermione nodded in agreement and knocked on the professor's door. Once inside the office they were forced to part.

"Harry, my boy!" Slughorn shouted across the room waving the boy to him. "Come here, come here. Sit down next to me. I'd like you to meet Alcott and Agate Ainsley, former aurors and now authors of _Us, untraceable_." He turned towards Hermione. "And Miss Granger, welcome to you, too. You can take the seat right in front of you."

As the witch sat down, she briefly wondered who would be the last invited for there still remained a seat next to her. Only a moment latter it knocked again and she heard the door hinges squeaking very quietly. The potions professor looked up at the sound.

"Capital, capital! Our cosy supper party is complete. Please, come in and take the seat next to Miss Granger, Mister Malfoy."

Hermione froze wine glass in hand. No, it can't be true, she thought frantically. That her great day should end in such a disastrous way was almost incredible to her. She was convinced she would faint in only a matter of minutes. Past memories about what happened at the Malfoy Manor were already resurfacing; she still hadn't accomplished to prevent it. During potions, she focused so hard on her tasks that her brain was fully occupied. Now however, a whole evening with Malfoy next to her? She'd never survive.

However, she did. Professor Slughorn and the Ainsleys easily carried the conversation with Harry nodding here and there. Neither of them paid attention to the other end of the table. There, the Slytherin said almost nothing and if he did, it was to very politely ask for the bread or salt and pepper. As the evening went on, his calmness transferred to Hermione who didn't have to concentrate on breathing evenly too hard anymore. She was nowhere near feeling at ease, but she managed to suppress the worst memories.

When the supper ended, Slughorn thanked everyone to attending to this "marvellous evening, yes marvellous indeed". Obviously suffering from the beginnings of another headache, Harry had fled the office as soon as the professor had uttered these words. His friend stood up the same time as Malfoy. Slightly caught off guard she looked the blond boy in the eyes.

"Good night, Hermione," he whispered leaving a completely stunned witch behind.


	8. Chapter 8

_Hello everybody! Thank you for reading my story, for favoriting (is that even a word?) it, for following and for the PMs I got. You guys make my days better. I know everybody's waiting for a little more interaction between Draco and Hermione. And who am I to deny that? Hopefully, you'll enjoy this chapter as you did the last one. Feel free to leave a comment - every review just gives me a huge boost to continue writing._

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At five to eight the next morning a very tired looking Hermione rushed into the Great hall to gulp down a cup of tea and grab a muffin. To the curious looks her friends threw her - she had never, not in all her time at Hogwarts, been that late for breakfast -, she simply mumbled something about having been up way too long because of a homework she had rewritten. As she was known for such behaviour, the other Gryffindors rolled their eyes and enjoyed the last few minutes before they had to go to their first classes. Besides, she certainly hadn't slept enough, so it wasn't a real lie, now was it? Nobody needed to know that she had turned and tossed around in her bed mulling over the last evening's supper party. Or rather a certain blond wizard who'd been in attendance. Or more precisely the way this certain blond wizard has acted towards her, indifferent, nay, she dared to think at times even polite.

The subject of her late night musings, indeed, was the only one who watched her more closely. His anxiety for her wellbeing rose when he noticed the dark circles beneath her eyes and the way she carelessly stirred sugar in her tea which she usually drank plain.

Puzzled by the sudden attention Draco was paying the Gryffindor table, Theo followed his line of vision. Ignorant of his friend's train of thought he snidely remarked:

"The 'golden girl' looks worse than usual."

"You're right, Theo. She really looks almost wild with that disaster of hair. And her clothes! Did you see how wrinkled they are?"

"I think she looks dead tired, Pansy," said Blaise. "Even you care a little less about your looks after a rough night."

The Slytherin girl snorted. "I'll always look better than her! _You_ noticed it, too, Draco, didn't you? I'm sure you've never seen a pureblood looking like that!"

"Certainly not."

"And to arrive so late for breakfast... Maybe little Miss Know-It-All has finally found her limits."

"Didn't we all find our limits over the last year," mumbled Blaise before finishing his glass of water. Last night, he had indulged in a little too much firewhisky in order to keep the dreams away. As he had the night before. And the one before that.

"I am afraid, Draco," observed Pansy rising from her seat and grabbing her bag, "that you'll have to do all the work during potions this afternoon."

Not caring to answer, he got up with the rest of his friends. They separated on the bottom of the stairs to go to their respective classes. After a few minutes, Theo who also took Ancient Runes began again:

"I have to say, working with that Turpin girl in potions isn't so bad. She's really clever being a Ravenclaw and all. But Potter is so annoyingly apathetic and doesn't pay attention at all. Did you see how he stirred our potion the wrong way yesterday?" He groaned loudly. "A whole week's worth of preparation going down the drain..."

"Yeah, I noticed your swearing."

"If it wasn't for McGonagall's damned rules, I would have thrown some nasty curses at him."

"But you didn't," replied Draco not caring to continue their conversation.

Later that day, the eighth year students waited in the dungeons for professor Slughorn to open the door. Since the first day, he seemed to enjoy letting them wait a little before ushering them in with a rather dramatic gesture.

During her morning classes, Hermione had managed to calm her nerves. Now however, she entered the potions classroom with a renewal of anxiety. Head down, she went to her table hyperaware of the blond boy sitting down next to her. After some last instructions from Slughorn about the steps they needed to follow to continue their potion, the Gryffindor got up to gather the ingredients that needed to be prepared.

"Not feeling like the 'golden girl' today, Granger?" whispered Theo who had also come to the ingredients cupboard.

Just ignore them, the witch silently told herself, they only want you to break and run to one of the professors or the headmistress and you can't let them win.

"Maybe she was having a bad dream about failing her N.E.W.T.s.," Pansy whispered right back at him and took a jar of pre-sliced caterpillars. "Or maybe, it was about something worse," she added with an evil glint in her eyes, "like... some escaped Death Eaters messing with her dear muggle parents."

Furiously, Hermione turned around and stomped back to her workplace where she put the gathered ingredients down rather violently. Her eyes widened as the crystal stopper of one of the bottles popped out due to the sudden impact. It bounced of the tabletop, but thanks to Draco's seeker reflexes, he managed to catch it a few inches above the stone floor.

"Here," he offered her the glittering stopper.

Mumbling her thanks, she took it out of his hand. When his fingers brushed hers she nearly let the crystal go again. A tingling sensation shot through her arm. With a blush, she turned away and started to measure the ingredients.

Draco, having felt the same strange sensation, hesitated briefly. He then started the tedious work of peeling and then finely chopping two daisy roots with a silver knife. Around him, the other students began preparing their potion ingredients as well while professor Slughorn strolled across the room to inspect their work. Ron complained loudly about Greg's unthorough measurements, but nobody paid him any attention. After almost fifteen minutes of working in strained silence, Draco broke the tension:

"Don't pay Pansy any attention," said he under his breath.

Hermione nearly knocked her own jar of caterpillars over. Too stunned to remember she avoided speaking to and even looking at the Slytherin, she jerked her head around towards him. "What?"

"She can be a real bitch," the blond mumbled still looking at the roots he was chopping.

"You have no idea," she hissed through gritted teeth.

He stopped his cutting and looked at her pulling his eyebrows together. "What did she say?"

Abruptly, the witch turned back to her work. "I don't know why you should even care," she whispered.

"I'll tell her to stop, no matter what she said."

Incredulously, Hermione stared at him. "Why would you do that?"

"Because whatever it was," Draco whispered noting that Slughorn was walking towards their way, "it clearly upset you." He pointed to the bottle in Hermione's hand. "You've already added a dash of leech juice."

Quickly, she pulled her hand back from above the cauldron. Oh Merlin, she thought shocked, I nearly ruined it.

"Ah, Miss Granger, Mister Malfoy! Let's take a look at your Shrinking Solution." The potions professor stopped at their table. "Already turning bright green!" He called out, clapping his hands. "Excellent, five points to each of you." He continued on to Hannah's and Neville's table telling them they had forgotten to add the Wormwood _before_ the Shrivelfig.


	9. Chapter 9

_Wow. I mean: Wow! You guys rock. Thank you so much for following my story. I appreciate each and every one of you doing so soooo much! annaea3077 pointed out to me, that Hermione could just go tell McGonagall that the Slyterins (especially Pansy) were acting rudly towards her and get them out of Hogwarts. I just fixed that aspect. Thank you annaea! It's only one sentence, but if you'd like to re-read it, head back over there. Now, without further ado prepare for the brillance of the one and only Slughorn. :D Tell me what you thought about this chapter!_

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Hermione passed the rest of the potions class marvelling about Draco's strange behaviour. He'd not only prevented her from ruining their Shrinking Solution, but also asked about what Pansy had said to upset her. What that was about, she had absolutely no idea. Had it been a year ago, she would have bet that he wanted to know so he could further taunt her. But he had looked so genuinely concerned...

In spite of the progress with their potion, Hermione and her work partner - like everyone else - had to stay after the end of the class. The Shrinking Solution needed to be stirred clockwise thirteen times every three minutes for exactly two hours. While all the eighth years grumbled about the extended school day, professor Slughorn gave one of his favourite speeches about 'the sacrifices necessary to achieve extraordinary results in advanced potions'.

"Sacharissa Tugwood, one of the loveliest potioneers I ever encountered, has told how –"

"Professor Slughorn", Lisa Turpin interrupted the old man, "is it true that Sacharissa Tugwood's niece, Felicitania, will be at Hogwarts next week?"

Startled by the sudden disruption, the professor turned to look at his student. "Well, I guess rumour spreads as fast as always in Hogwarts." He chuckled and continued. "Yes, dear Felicitania, who by the way has also excelled in potions, will be my special guest for next Friday evening's supper."

Upon hearing this, the Ravenclaw shot a glance to Padma who nodded in encouragement. Only separated by the aisle between their work tables, the two girls had been whispering to each other during the whole class, and the result of it was, that Lisa should try to convince Professor Slughorn to invite them to his supper party as well. Meeting _the_ Felicitania Tugwood would be a one in a lifetime chance for both of them.

Lisa was a slender girl of just eighteen, with a fine complexion and a charming smile; almost always earning very good greats, she was a favourite with a lot of the professors. She had high goals for her literature career (the first draft of _The great history of potioneers_ was already written) and a healthy dose of self-confidence, which the praise of her good work over the last school years had only increased. Therefore, she didn't hesitate to address her potions professor on the subject of the possibility to meet a famous potioneer. Laying on thickly how 'great a potioneer' Slughorn himself was, most certainly helped in winning him over to her favour.

"I do quite agree with you, Miss Turpin," he answered. "Meeting Miss Tugwood would be beneficial for everyone. I am perfectly ready, I assure you, to change my plans of a simple supper," at this, everyone who'd ever been invited by Slughorn, rolled their eyes, "to a bigger event." He pondered about this for an instant. "Oh well, why not turn something already great into something even more fabulous!" Pointing his wand at a stack of parchment on his desk, a feather started to swiftly dance across the first sheet. A few seconds later, the latter flew right into Slughorn's outstretched hand while the feather continued its writing on the next sheet. "Yes, yes," said the professor, "this will most certainly do. Miss Turpin, I think you'll be delighted with this." With an exaggerated gesture, he offered the parchment to the Ravenclaw girl. She quickly scanned the document as another two sheets flew across the room to land in front of Padma and Hannah.

Lisa squealed in delight: "Oh that is awesome! Thank you, professor, for offering us the chance to meet Miss Tugwood!" She happily smiled at Padma who had just read her parchment.

Slughorn rubbed his belly and nodded in a patronising manner. He was rather pleased with his idea and judging the girl's reaction, so where his students.

"Don't forget to stir," he called the class back to attention while sheets of parchment continued to fly to the work desks. The atmosphere in the dungeon had changed a little from annoyed to... a colourful concoction of emotions. Whereas Lisa and Padma were most certainly excited about whatever the feather had written down, Terry, Ernie, Hannah, Neville and Seamus still looked a little interested. Harry and Ron on the other hand groaned inconspicuously (the one more so than the other). The Slytherins had some kind of silent conversation going on that consisted of raised eyebrows and shoulder shrugging. Hermione was the last to receive a parchment. Once she had scanned it, she sighed in exasperation:

Dear Miss Granger,

You are hereby invited to attend Professor H. Slughorn's dinner party in honour of Felicitania Tugwood, next Friday at nine o'clock. Formal attire expected.

Sincerely,

Horace E. F. Slughorn


	10. Chapter 10

_Sunday evening - again! The weekend really is too short... I'm happy you still like my story, but I'd be even happier if you reviewed some more. :) The next weeks will be awefully busy at work and your comments just give me the boost to sit down and write another chapter. Hope you'll enjoy this one._

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The following day passed much as the day before. Pansy spent most of it thinking about possible dress choices for Slughorn's dinner party and dropping rather obvious hints towards Draco. She was quite decided that she would not only go to the party with the other Slytherin eighth years, but with one in particular. Her person of interest, however, hadn't paid her any attention. In the evening, she and her housemates were gathered in their common room, spread across different sofas and chairs near the fire. The younger students had to content themselves with the seating-accommodations farther away from the cosy warmth.

Malfoy was writing an answer to a letter he had received from his mother earlier. Pansy, seated near him, was watching the progress of his letter and repeatedly asked him to thank his mother for her advice during her last shopping trip to Paris. She had gotten so many compliments - though none from Draco to be honest - on her makeup. Greg and Blaise were bent over a game of chess with Theo observing their game. From time to time, he saw it fit to make a remark on how stupid a move his friends had just made was.

"How delighted Narcissa will be to receive such a long letter! I don't think you've ever written me such a long one."

Of course he hadn't, why should he? He made no answer.

"You write uncommonly fast."

"I don't know why you care about it, but I write rather slowly tonight."

"Oh yes! The two foot long essay McGonagall asked for. And the paper for Ancient Runes you had to write as well! How I hate all that stupid homework!"

"You're lucky, then, that you haven't chosen Runes yourself."

"Please, tell your mother that I'd love to visit her for tea again."

"I have already told her so in my last letter, by your insistence. She didn't mention it now though."

"Do you still have enough ink in your well? I have plenty in my dorm."

"That's a self refilling inkwell."

"How can you concentrate for so long in here? It's always so noisy with all the first and second years."

He was silent.

"Tell your mother how happy I am to hear of her improved health."

"I'll tell her so in my next letter. I'm almost done for now."

"Oh, don't worry. I shall see her during Christmas break, right Draco?"

"With mother not feeling well, I'm not sure she'll want to invite so many people for the usual Christmas dinner this year."

"I could help her with the preparations. It wouldn't bother me at all."

"As if you have ever worked a day in your life, Pansy," snorted Blaise, "you wouldn't even know how to _plan_ such a dinner."

"Shut up!" cried the Slytherin girl, "I won't _need_ to work myself, the house-elves will. Did you already forget what those little buggers are there for since the ministry took your mother's elf away?"

Blaise gritted his teeth. Throughout the trials after the Great War, the elves of all Death Eaters had been questioned. Whenever the ministry got notice that they had been mistreated or used in order to help Voldemort, they were instantly freed. Some of them now worked at Hogwarts, but still refused to work for their former masters or masters' children. When Blaise had called for Tips, the old house-elf that belonged to his mother who now worked in the castle as well, nothing but a scribbled note had appeared saying he wouldn't listen to anyone but Headmistress McGonagall. He didn't know why Tips had been questioned although the Zabinis had always remained neutral, but apparently, the elf hadn't wanted to work for his family any more – and still didn't want to.

"So," Pansy turned towards the blond boy, "you must tell your mother about my offer as soon as possible. I already have great ideas how to change things up from the usua-"

"Mother likes her traditions," Draco interrupted her, "so don't bother thinking about it for any longer. She needs her rest."

The witch opened her mouth but no syllable came out. That didn't go as planned. She had been absolutely confident, the way things were progressing between the two of them - and they were progressing, mind you -, that the Malfoy heir would invite her over the Christmas break. Frowning slightly, she leaned back in her armchair and crossed her legs. I have to simply keep showing him what a perfect addition to the Malfoy family I would be, she told herself. Lost in thoughts, she didn't pay attention to the conversation between Theo, Greg and Blaise.

"Yo, Theo", said the former, "I overheard some sixth years during dinner."

"And?"

"They were gossiping about you asking Tori Greengrass to go to Slughorn's party together."

Theo stayed silent.

"But she must have an invitation, or she wouldn't be able to go, right?," Greg asked before telling his rook to move. "Check."

"You really think Slughorn would forget to invite a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight?" Blaise told his king to move to the right. "Of course she has an invitation. Nonetheless," he turned to Theo again, "back to what her classmates were talking - or should I say laughing? - about."

His friend shot him a dirty glare while Greg made his next move. "Check."

"I heard that you received quite the rebuff," smirked Blaise, "that she told you she'd rather go with an oaf than you after what you've done to her sister last summer. King to B8."

"You should pay more attention to your game. Gregory Goyle just beat you," Theo replied through gritted teeth, got up and went to stare out of the window into the blackness of the Great Lake.

"No way!"

"Yes way," the brawny Slytherin replied. "Check mate!"

"Bugger of!" Blaise angrily pushed the board away and pulled five galleons out of his pocket. He threw the golden coins into Greg's outstretched hand. "How did you even do that?"

"By paying attention," Draco muttered making the tall boy laugh out loud. He had finished his letter, but his thoughts were way too sinister to go to bed yet. "What were you talking about?"

"Oh, just Tori over there," Blaise pointed towards the sixth year girl who was just leaving for her dorm room, "refusing to go the Slug's party with Theo."

"Can you resent her?" The blond raised one of his immaculate eyebrows. "Theo got himself caught in the locker room with her big sister. He ruined her reputation."

"Why did he ask her at all? I thought we're all going together?"

"Greg," sighed Blaise patting his friend on the shoulder, "it's a question of honour. As a Nott, Theo can't well appear by himself at a social gathering. You wouldn't understand as you're not one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight."

"But neither are you!"

"Yeah, but ever since mom married that Selwyn guy - I think it was her third husband - she's been even more crazy about staying in the highest circles of society." Blaise imitated his mother's shrill voice: "Reputation and appearance are everything!" The three boys laughed and talked some more about the antics of Mrs. Zabini. As it was getting late, the common room emptied.

When only Greg, Draco and Pansy were left, Greg snapping his knuckles observed the blond Slytherin. "With whom do you go to the party then, Drake? Your family is one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, right?"

Upon hearing Draco's name and the word party in the same sentence, Pansy snapped out of her reverie. Sitting a little taller, she fluttered her eyelashes at the blond wizard. "I'm certain, you've already decided that, right?"

"I...," he started, but fell silent again.

"Well," Pansy tried to encourage him to say some more. She twirled a strand of her raven hair around her fingers, trying to look more seductive. "Have you decided yet?"

"I have," replied Draco and abruptly stood up. He didn't notice the hopeful smile on the witch's face nor the curious look Greg threw him.

"I don't care shit about being one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. We'll all go to Slughorn's party together. I won't ask anyone." And he left.

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 _Guys, I don't know if I should publish what happened between Theo and Daphne... It's a throwback and not_ that _important for the storyline. Let's say, it would be a steamy bonus chapter. I've never published a lemon before, still, I know exactly what happened, because, well, it's already written and just waits for my decision. So tell me, should or shouldn't I let you know about the little action in the air?_


	11. Bonus: Theo's and Daphne's broom flight

_Hello to you all! So sorry for not updating sooner. I had one hell of a week workwise and insted of relaxing on the weekend, I went to Denmark. One of my best friends just moved there and really needed a shoulder to cry on. Well, sometimes you just have to leave everything behind you and just be there, right. So, without further blabla the next chapter. Well, bonus chapter. ;) You convinced me to publish it, so here you go: a little action in the air. Please tell me what you thought, it's the first lemon I've ever written. Love you guys!_

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"Where are we going?", Daphne whispered as Theo pulled her after him.

"I told you, it's a surprise," he whispered back stopping at the top of the stairs. He put a finger to her full, sculpted lips to stop her from asking further questions. Carefully, he glanced around the corner into the dark entryway. "Come on, nobody's there."

He quickly gave her a promising kiss, then gently tugged her along with him. A silent _Alohomora_ opened the great doors and they crept out of the castle into the starlit night.

The Great War was over, exams done and students were asked to help restoring Hogwarts to its old magnificence during the summer break. Because the ministry was to busy mending the damages the War had caused all over Britain, every hand was needed. Even a first year was able to float debris away and the older students were taught some simple rebuilding charms. Also, that way everybody was occupied and couldn't ponder too much about the past cruelties.

Today, the sixth and seventh years had finished the quidditch stadium. Four stands surrounded the field as they did before the destruction, Madame Hooch's office and the locker room were rebuilt and two new first aid cabins were added just below the six hoops overlooking the field from either side. Professor Flitwick had convinced Headmistress McGonagall how important it was to offer the students some kind normalcy. And what better way than quidditch, right?

Arriving at the locker room, Theo pushed Daphne against the door. The witch was gasping slightly due to the hurried walk across the school grounds. She licked her lips in anticipation before Theo took her face in his hands and tilted it slightly up. He kissed her hungrily and traced her lower lip begging for entrance. Once she'd granted it, their tongues battled for dominance. One of his hands slipped up to grab a fistful of her hair, with the thumb of the other he stroke her carotid. Her pulse was quickening with each caress of his tongue against hers. When he finally pulled away, she was panting.

"Are we even allowed to be here?", she asked in a husky voice. Her swollen lips were glistening in the moonlight, her eyes shining with desire.

"And if we weren't?", Theo murmured trailing hot open mouthed kisses down her neck while slowly letting his hand wander under her skirt cupping her behind. She squirmed under his touch grabbing his biceps for support. Licking his way back up to her lightly parted lips he asked: "Ready for your surprise?"

Not able to form a coherent answer anymore Daphne nodded against his lips, pulling his body closer to hers. His hand had moved to the front and drew lazy circles on her thigh almost all the way up _there_ , but not close enough. She groaned unsatisfied as Theo broke the kiss once again. He reached into the pocket of his trousers, pulled out a charmed key and opened the locker room smiling brightly.

"Forget it, Theo," the witch frowned at him. "You won't shag me in the locker out of all places!"

"Hush," whispered he and kissed the corner of her mouth. "Who said something about shagging or even shagging _inside_?" Pulling out his wand he _accio-ed_ a broom that flew right to him. He motioned to the broom now hovering hip-high above the ground in front of them: "Get on."

Daphne looked at the boy in bewilderment. His scorching lips on her skin had left her needy. She was wanting him in a completely different manner. And he had planned to surprise her with flying? _What a shame_ , she thought slightly frustrated, _it started so good. I had really hoped the rumours about his 'abilities' were true. Now the stupid anti-pregnancy potion was for nothing._ With a sigh, she sat down sideways. Not hesitating, Theo mounted directly behind her. Pulling her slender form tightly against his body with his left arm, he grabbed the broomstick with his right hand and pushed them into the air. The wind blew past them as they soared into the night circling around the quidditch pitch. Higher and higher they went, until they were almost the same height as the astronomy tower behind them.

 _At least he is a decent flier_ , pondered Daphne and looked up to the full moon _. And it_ is _a rather beautiful night with the stars and-_

"Merlin," she gasped as she suddenly felt a hand pushing the hem of her skirt up.

"Hmmm," hummed Theo as he sucked the skin on her neck. His right hand was busy with her skirt as his left caressed up her arm.

"Theo," murmured Daphne as his fingers trailed from her shoulder, across her clavicle and down to her breasts where he followed the line of her bra, "we're going to crash."

"Don't worry. I'm quite capable steering with just the footrest." To prove his point, he leaned to the side and flew a wide curve around the three hoops at one end of the quidditch stadium.

"Ah," she sighed against his lips when he kissed her to distract her from worrying too much. He cupped her left breast and gently kneaded it. She whimpered in need as his other hand arrived at her lacy panties. _Oh Morgana, I'm already soaking! How embarrassing._

He lazily traced the seam of her panties next to her thigh. Up and down. And up. And down. Her hot breath hit his neck as she grabbed his shoulders for support. Without warning, Theo suddenly palmed her sex with his whole hand hissing at the contact:

"Fuck, you're already wet. That's so fucking hot." Lightly, he bit her earlobe making her squirm with need. "Careful, little witch, or you'll fall down," he breathed into her ear.

Goosebumps covered her skin, her breathing was erratic by now. Theo pulled the thin lace out of the way and let his fingers wander across her folds. He teased her for a while enjoying the way she got more and more flustered. When he entered a finger into her hot folds, she cried out loudly.

"Ssssh," he quickly silenced her passion with his own lips, "you have to stay quiet or someone will hear us. Sound travels easily during the night."

"Theo, please," she begged moving her hips against his hand, wanting, needing some kind of release. _To hell with everyone, I want this. Now._

Chuckling, he let the broom drop a few meters making her gasp in surprise. Then, he added another finger inside her steadily pumping in and out. She bucked her hips to get more friction, but the boy only _tsk-ed_ at her and pulled her closer to himself. His erection was pressed against her right thigh and her movements nearly made him lose his hold on the footrest. Too turned on to continue his ministrations much longer, he put his thumb against the small nub of her clit and pressed down.

"Oooh, yes!", the witch moaned and gripped the wizards shoulders so firmly she, no doubt, would leave fingershaped bruises on his skin. Bucking her hips again, she unwittingly rubbed against his hard member eliciting a groan from him. His thumb was now circling her clit as his fingers kept pumping inside her, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. With his other hand, he twisted her sensitive nipple through the material of her blouse and bra. As Theo felt her walls clamping around his fingers, he quickly latched his lips to hers to swallow her cries of ecstasy.

He leaned forward and landed next to the locker room a few seconds later. Jumping from the broom, Daphne grabbed his hand and pulled him inside the dark room.

"You. Inside me. Now," was all she could pant.

Not one to say no to such an order, he grabbed her hips and roughly wheeled her against the next locker. Eagerly, he kissed her and pushed her skirt up. She fumbled with his belt buckle and zippers as he tore the thin lace of her panties apart eliciting another moan from her. In the blink of an eye, he pulled his throbbing erection out of his boxers and pushed himself all the way into her.

"Ahh," Daphne cried out loudly as he filled her core.

"I won't last long," he growled grabbing her behind and plunging into her. "You're so fucking tight. I can already feel you coming down on me again." His thrusts grew frantic as he neared his own orgasm. "Fuck, yes," he hissed a few moments later emptying himself inside her and taking her over the edge again.

"Lumos maxima!" Suddenly, the room was brightly lit.

"Mister Nott! Miss Greengrass! I can't believe my eyes", Headmistress McGonagall cried out in disbelief. "You broke at least ten rules tonight! I won't tolerate such shameful behaviour." The caught students hastily tried to cover themselves. "I'll have to owl your parents right away, Miss Greengrass. And you Mister Nott, as you are off age, I ask you to leave the school grounds until you return for the coming school year in two weeks. You'll have time to think about your dishonourable actions and write an appropriate apology to Miss Greengrass's parents!"


	12. Chapter 11

_And we continue with our story. Who's up for a walk around the Great Lake? :) As always: feel free to leave a review (it's soul food for my writer's mojo), follow or favorite this story. xo_

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When the Gryffindors returned to their common room after lunch on Saturday, Seamus congratulated Neville rather loudly for getting Hannah to be his date for Slughorn's party the following week. As her classmates - except Harry who, deep on thought, was sitting with Ginny and some of the other seventh years - continued discussing the upcoming event, Hermione decided to go for a walk around the Great Lake. Alone.

This stupid, stupid, stupid party has everyone going nuts, thought she angrily, can't they talk about anything else?

She quickly went to her dorm to grab her coat and bonnet (black with silver snowflakes stitched to it – an early Christmas gift she had bought herself last week). Waving goodbye at her friends, she then left the Gryffindor tower and rushed downstairs towards the entry hall.

Fresh air greeted her once she stepped outside. The already freezing November wind was whistling in trees blowing away the few leaves left from the otherwise bald branches. Wanting for some solitude, she decided to take a turn around the Great Lake. She had made it almost halfway around the dark water when she noticed she wasn't the only one outside. Moving in her direction was a group of three students clad in thick coats with hoods against the cold gusts of wind. Slytherins, judging by the green colour of the scarf one of them was wearing. As the trio approached further, she first recognised the typical swag of Zabini. So the lanky boy next to him could only be Nott and the pale skinned figure staring to the ground and walking almost twenty feet behind them had to be Malfoy. Not half a minute later, she was sure about the identity of the three students.

"Bugger!", cursed Hermione to herself. "Why does it have to be them?" Knowing that she couldn't avoid them, the witch continued her (now noticeably slower) walk.

When the Slytherins were only a few feet away. Zabini called out to her:

"Well, well, well. If that isn't our famous 'golden girl' all by herself. Where's the rest of your trio? Couldn't convince Weaselbe and Potty to accompany you?"

She didn't care to answer and tried to get past the boys.

"Hey Granger," Nott made a grab for her arm, "Blaise here has just asked you a question. Even a mu-", he shot an uncertain glance towards Malfoy who was still lost in thought but had almost caught up with them, "-ggleborn should know it's rude to ignore a polite enquiry."

Furiously, the witch shook the hand stopping her off. "Polite enquiry? The hell. Just leave me alone."

"No need to get your panties in a twist," Zabini laughed and stood right in front of her blocking her way. "I just asked you a question."

She didn't answer, only glared up at him.

"Mate, I don't think she'll answer you. Maybe she's too scared to answer," Nott smirked standing next to his classmate. "Wouldn't surprise me. Never one to wander off without your brainless protectors, aren't you?"

"I wonder," Zabini continued with a dirty smile, "whether you're _always_ together... Hanging out after class. In the evenings. In the night... Does Ginny join your little threesome?"

Within a fraction of a second Hermione had her wand in her hand and pointed it directly at the tall boy. They shouldn't keep pushing her already overstrained limits. The incessant talk about Slughorn's party during lunch had gotten on her nerves. Last night, her usual nightmares about the Great War had haunted her. Plus, it was that time of the month and she had been suffering from cramps since breakfast. No need to say, she was close to exploding. "Let me pass," she gritted through her teethes.

"Or what?", the dark wizard taunted. "You're going to curse us?" Him and Nott laughed as he continued, "you wouldn't dare to break the rules, Granger, so put that useless piece of wood aw-"

"Tentaclifors! Furnunculus!" Two shots of light flew from the tip of her wand. "You're right," she hissed at them, "I wouldn't curse you, but jinxes aren't forbidden."

Zabini howled in pain as great ugly boils were springing up all over his face whereas Nott was frantically touching his head that was now transformed into a tentacle. The noise finally got Malfoy to look up. His eyes widened slightly.

"What the-"

"One wrong word and you're next," Hermione snapped at him moving her wand so it was now pointed at his head.

He lifted his hands palms up in the air and focused the wand. "Blaise, get yourself and Theo to Pomfrey", he calmly addressed his classmates not moving his eyes.

"Make that bitch pay," groaned Zabini in agony has he was dragging his much worse disfigured friend towards the castle.

Malfoy and Hermione stood a few feet apart staring at each other, her wand still directed at him, his hands still lifted. She was shaking with fury, breathing angrily through flared nostrils. Neither of them moved as Zabini's curses died away in the background. Slowly, Malfoy lifted his eyes to look in her face. Grey eyes cautiously met brown ones filled with hatred. Time passed with the two of them only looking at each other. Gradually, Hermione's breathing got back to normal and the angry shaking subsided. When she finally dropped her arm to shove her wand back up her sleeve, Malfoy dared to put his hands down.

"I-"

"What the hell is wrong with you Slytherins?" She was still seething.

"I'm s-"

"Why can't you - for Godric's sake - just leave me alone?"

"Herm-"

She continued her enraged tirade, letting out all the pent-up emotions. Wildly gesturing she started to pace in front of the blond wizard. Her hair, already a worse mess than usual thanks to the wind, now stuck out in every direction and looked almost scary. Having been friends with Pansy Parkinson for ages had taught him that it was sometimes beneficial to one's health to let a woman rant when she needed to rant.

A few minutes later, she huffed indignantly and crossed her arms facing the Great Lake which looked like an almost black mirror. It reflected the clouds chasing in the air. The light was slowly fading due to the progressed time of day.

"Feeling better?", Draco dared to ask.

Startled, Hermione turned to look at the blond. She eyed him in a way so suspiciously he raised his hands again. After a short moment, she nodded warily and asked the most obvious question:

"Why are you still here?"

"Well, I tried to apologise for whatever Blaise and Theo said to rile you up, but you were quite determined to not let me talk."

She averted her eyes and blushed slightly.

"Bad day?", Malfoy broke the silence yet again.

"Bad week seems to be more accurate."

"Same here", mumbled he so low she wasn't sure he had intended to be heard. "We should get back to the castle. It will be dark soon." He motioned for her to walk next to him.

Hermione was stunned, but agreed to it hesitantly.

What could he mean by acting so differently lately, she wondered uncertain whether she could at all understand him.


	13. Chapter 12

_Did you see, did you see? 101 followers! Oh my gosh! I'm so happy, I'm litterally dancing right now. Thank you so much, you're inspiring me more than you know. And guess what? Here's the second chapter this weekend. Enjoy it and please review. :)_

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When they finally arrived at the castle's entrance it was almost dark outside. Hermione looked at Draco and, with a forced smile and a shy nod, made her way up to the Gryffindor tower. To the Slytherin it was welcome circumstance - he had been in the witch's company long enough. She attracted him more than he liked to admit - and his friends were acting even more uncivil to her than usual. Walking towards the dungeons, he decided to be particularly careful to show no sign of interest in anything concerning the girl. For the rest of Saturday, he scarcely spoke at all, not even when Blaise and Theo returned from the infirmary. Of course Madame Pomfrey had been able to undo the jinxes in no time.

On Sunday, after breakfast, the Gryffindor eighth years plus Ginny sat in their usual chairs (or on the floor, speaking of Neville) next to the fireplace. Seamus and Ron wanted to go the Hogsmeade to have lunch at the Three Broomsticks and tried to convince the rest of the group to join them. Neville declined for he had already planned to stay at Hogwarts with Hannah and Ernie. Hermione on the other hand agreed eager to get out of the castle and away from a certain blond Slytherin whom she couldn't get out of her mind. Sighing, Ginny told her brother that her and Harry would tag along as well. She was quite concerned about her boyfriend who was more apathetic than usual. Grabbing his hand she squeezed it slightly. A year ago today, Ron had left Harry and Hermione under the influence of the Horcrux they had been trying to destroy. Although the three of them claimed that they had long forgotten about what had happened, it still affected Harry. Most nights, he had nightmares about Voldemort killing the people he cared for, about Nagini attacking members of the Order or about Death Eaters torturing innocents - wizards and muggles alike. Sometimes though, he dreamed about how his best friend had vanished leaving him and Hermione behind to work on an impossible task on their own. The past feeling of loneliness and hopelessness had followed him deep into the last night.

An hour later at the Three Broomsticks, they were welcomed very cordially by Rosie, Madame Rosmerta's 23-year-old niece who had come to help rebuild the village and give a hand to her aunt. The older woman stood behind the counter polishing glasses and smiled happily at their coming. She thought them to appear almost as jovially as before the Great War and was sure Seamus had grown even more handsome over the summer. Noting her niece winking at the boy when writing down his order, she concluded that the younger witch thought the same. And judging by the smile she got in return, Seamus wasn't bothered by her attention either. Not in the least.

Rosie returned back to the counter, gave her aunt the group's drink order - three butterbeers, a pumpkin juice, a hot chocolate with cinnamon and two double fire whiskeys - and made her way towards the kitchen. It had been her idea to start selling sandwiches, salads and soups for lunch. With all those wizards coming to Hogsmeade to help with its reconstruction, the revenues had grown remarkably. Madame Rosmerta put the beverages on a tray which she floated towards the group. Not needing to ask, she passed each Gryffindor what they had ordered: the butterbeers to the boys, the pumpkin juice to the youngest Weasley and the hot chocolate to Hermione. Frowning slightly she put the fire whiskeys next to Ron und Seamus who clinked their glasses and quickly downed the drink in one gulp. Ron motioned for another round as Seamus excused himself to use the toilet. They are way too young to be drinking that much, she thought to herself and observed the four remaining students. She found Harry, as usual since the war, staring absently into his butterbeer while Ginny hold his hand. The witch was talking with Hermione who fended of Ron's rather blatant (and not heartfelt) approaches. Finally giving up, the tall boy leaned back and watched the other customers while tending to his butterbeer.

Rosmerta polished the last glasses left on the counter and then proceeded to wipe the latter. A few minutes later, two wizards who wanted to pay called for her, so she grabbed her charmed purse and walked over to them. Returning to her favourite place in the pub, she noticed the clock sitting between two of her most expensive goblin made bottles of fire whiskey. Instead of the time, it showed which costumers were waiting for drinks or for food, which wanted to pay and which were up to something bad - such as leaving without paying. Although that last almost never happened thanks to her reputation. Having fought during the Battle of Hogwarts intimidated most cheaters. Most of all the drunk ones. As she now looked at the clock, she saw that _Table 5_ still pointed towards _Waiting for food_. The Gryffindor students had been waiting for almost twenty minutes by now. They didn't seem to mind, but it wasn't like Rosie to take so long with an order. Frowning she turned her head to the door separating the pub from the kitchen and called for her niece:

"Rosie, what is taking you so long? Are you coming?"

"Y-yes! I'm coming!", came the muffled cry through the door. Not a minute later, the blond girl emerged from the kitchen, five plates floating in front of her. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun in the nape of her neck looked more ruffled than before and her cheeks were tinted a bright red. She smiled a little too widely as she walked past her aunt who knitted her eyebrows together disapprovingly. With a flick of her wand, the sandwiches and soups landed gracefully on the table.

"Enjoy your meal!", she warmly told the five Gryffindors trying to smooth away some creases in her apron.

"Oh, we sure will," replied Seamus reappearing at the table, "it looks delicious."

As a blushing Rose turned away to take the order of another group that had just entered the Three Broomsticks, Ron asked:

"Where have you been so long? Couldn't find the loo?"

Seamus shrugged. "Let's just say, I've been otherwise distracted." He took a spoonful of the soup in front of him, slowly licking the piece of cutlery clean afterwards.


	14. Chapter 13

_Yeah, I know, I haven't post all week long. Sorry guys! A reader gave me the idea to invent a charm_ (Demum Devoras) _, but I forgot your name and can't find your PM anymore. Anyway, this chapter is for you :o) Well, let's welcome the alter ego of Mr Collins in this chapter. xoxo_

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"I hope," said Harry to his friends, as they were just starting to eat, "that you didn't make any plans for today, because I think we'll be having an addition to our group in a little bit."

"Whod'yo mea, 'arry?" Ron asked with his mouth full.

"Ew Ron," Hermione shrieked next to him. A piece of half-chewed sandwich had just landed on her wrist. "You're disgusting! Swallow before talking!"

Rising a challenging eyebrow at her, Ron took another huge bite of his lunch. "'n why wou' I car'bou dat?" he asked blowing breadcrumbs onto himself, his plate, the table and - to her utter horror - Hermione.

"I'm not even sorry for that," the witch said through gritted as she drew her wand. " _Demum Devoras_." A flash of olive green light hit the red head straight in the chest. Immediately, his jaw snapped shut, his lips pressed together and, in the blink of an eye, the line between his lips vanished, leaving the boy without any mouth at all. The table fell silent as Ron dropped his sandwich and patted is face frantically.

"What exactly was that spell?" Ginny observed her brother with interest. Although his actions became more panicked by the second, she knew that her friend would never deliberately hurt anyone.

Hermione speared a piece of salad, put it in her mouth and chewed it purposefully. After swallowing, she dabbed her mouth and answered: "It should teach him the most basic of table manners." She brought another forkful of her lunch to her mouth. Her friends were torn between mild shock and amusement. Nobody thought the spell had been evil, but they were slightly worried that she would so casually cast one at her classmates. Not wanting to attract any attention, they silently continued to eat. Once Hermione finished her bite, she turned towards Ron and added: "Don't speak with your mouth full."

The wizard gulped audibly and his mouth reappeared instantly. "What the fuck did you do?", he shouted at the witch who simply glared at him.

"I just told you, I'm teaching you manners..."

"Have you gone bloody mad!?"

"... and until you haven't learned not to speak with your mouth full, I won't undo the spell."

"You're completely crazy! I can't believe you-"

"Oh, shut it, Ronald," the witch sighed. "You know as well as everyone here, that I won't change my mind."

Furiously, he grabbed his sandwich again and took another bite. As his mouth vanished, Ginny chuckled slightly and addressed Hermione:

"You are brilliant! I can't believe I didn't think of that earlier. Or mum! Why didn't she think of that spell? Mealtime at the Burrow would have been so much nicer."

"I made that one up myself," the other girl sheepishly admitted.

"As I just said, you are brilliant!", the ginger smiled broadly, then turned to Harry. "What did you mean? We'll be having an addition? Who?"

"The person of whom I speak is an acquaintance."

Ginny's eyes sparkled. "An acquaintance? Ha, I know! It is George, right? I haven't seen him for to long with the joke shop's latest success. Well, I am happy to see one of my well-mannered brothers again!"

"It is _not_ George, nor anyone you know personally," said her boyfriend rubbing his temples. "It's someone I've only talked to maybe twice in my life. I think Hermione also knows him."

This caused a general astonishment; and he enjoyed the short silence at his table. Well, the pub was still rather loud, but he would take any reduction in volume he could get. Another headache was slowly, but surely approaching. After taking a deep steadying breath, he explained:

"Yesterday evening, McGonagall gave me a letter that had falsely been delivered to another student. Apparently, the owl carrying it had been rather exhausted all the way from Bulgaria."

"Bulgaria?"

"Yeah, it was from Dimitri Poliakoff." He suppressed a groan. "Ginny, do you have a pain potion with you? I forgot mine at the castle."

"Here," said his girlfriend and handed him a small vial.

"Who's this Poliakoff guy?", asked Ron _before_ biting into his sandwich.

"He's been to Durmstrang," Hermione chimed in. Harry had closed his eyes after he'd taken the potion. It would take effect in but a moment, until then I usually didn't speak at all.. "He's been part of their delegation in our fourth year. You should have seen him. Rather tall, dark hair, dark eyes. A shy guy. I talked to him only once as he sometimes accompanied Krum."

"Viktor Krum?" Seamus eyes lit up in excitement. "Why did Poliakoff write to you, Harry? Will he bring Krum as well?"

"Don't think so," the black haired boy said feeling visibly better, "Poliakoff is working as a Magizoologist and told me that he'd be in the country for a few days doing some research on the British Doxy population. Said, he'd like to have a drink or two with someone he knew."

Ginny frowned in concern. "Isn't that a little suspicious?"

"He asked if you were still at Hogwarts, Hermione, or if you've already finished your N.E.W.T.s."

"I'm surprised he still remembers me. You? Obviously, as you were a champion in the Triwizard Tournament, but me?"

Hermione's mention of the Triwizard Tournament resulted in a rather animated discussion concerning the first two tasks Harry had to solve that carefully avoided the terrible finale of the contest. Ron and Seamus argued loudly about which dragon had been the most dangerous: the Chinese Fireball or the Hungarian Horntail.

The group had only just finished their lunch when Poliakoff appeared in the entrance of the Three Broomsticks. Intimidated, he overlooked the crowd that now filled the pub, finally spotted Harry and walked to their table. He was received with great politeness by everyone and a new round of drinks was quickly ordered. Harry indeed said little. Speaking about the first two tasks from fourth year had steered memories of the horrible events that ended the Tournament causing him to silently relive the past; but the other Gryffindors were ready enough to talk, encouraging Poliakoff to tell them about living in Bulgaria (Ron: "How long do you know Krum?"), his job (Ron: "Why didn't you bring him? Seamus and I have met him here for a drink a few times!") and the research he was doing on Doxys (Ron: "You should have asked Krum to join us!"). He was a tall, haggard-looking wizard of 23 years old. His wavy dark hair was combed back as he used to wear it four years ago, and his manners were very formal. He had not been long seated before he commented how he liked being part of such a lively group again after travailing alone for the past few months; said he had heard much of the companionship between Gryffindors, but that he had never imagined it to be true because you kept mostly to yourself at Durmstrang. Ron, who was a little concerned, that the renewed acquaintance between Harry and the Bulgarian wouldn't be beneficial for his contact with Krum, inquired:

"Yeah, we Gryffindors are quite tight. But you sure have to have friends at Durmstrang, right? Like Viktor Krum. He was in your year, wasn't he?"

"Yeah, he was. But I wouldn't say we're friends or anything."

"Bummer... But do you still keep contact with him? He's staying here at Hogsmeade at the moment, but we haven't seen him for a while."

"Not really... I'll be doing some research in this village though. A Mr. Welsh has written me that he had noticed a huge Doxy nest in his attic. If I meet Viktor, I'll probably have lunch with him. You guys could join us if you like."

"Yeah," Seamus replied enthusiastically (well, overenthusiastically to be honest, but let's not linger on the details here), "that would be amazing man!"

"Good, I'll owl Harry," noticing the still zombie-like expression on the wizard's face he frowned slightly. "Or I'll owl Hermione. If that's okay with you?", he added hopefully turning to the witch.

"Yes, no probl-"

"Of course that's okay mate!", Ron interrupted rudely. "You can also write to me if you're meeting with Krum!"

A little confused by this reaction, Poliakoff shrugged and took a sip of his butterbeer. It wasn't the first time that a Krum-fan had tried to get in contact with the famous quidditch player through one of his former classmates.

* * *

 _Maybe you noticed, that Poliakoff doesn't have a Bulgarian accent. Two reasons: First, English isn't my mother language, so I have no idea how to write an accent. Second, I haven't ever heard anyone speaking Bulgarian, so I don't even know how it sounds like. So feel free to read Poliakoffs comments in any accent you like ;)_


	15. Chapter 14

_Sorry for the delay! The past weeks have been crazy with work and dance competitions. I only managed to write a few minutes every day, but got two chapters done. Draco will be more present in the story soon. :) Hope you enjoy this little update and as always: you are awesome. Each new follower and each new comment make my day! xo_

 _PS: Do you think I could ask Santa for a date with Draco? ^^_

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As the afternoon went on, Harry scarcely spoke at all. Although he tried his hardest to push away the perpetual anxiety from which he suffered since the war, that day, he didn't succeed. Ginny, knowing her boyfriend quite well by now, excused the two of them. That left Hermione, Ron, Seamus und Poliakoff at the table. Ron thought it time to have some serious conversation with the Bulgarian, and therefore started to deepen the subject which really interested him by observing that the other wizard was very fortunate to have been a classmate of _the_ Viktor Krum. To tell the truth: Ron could have chosen better since Poliakoff already stated he had never been close to the other Bulgarian. Still he praised him as a good seeker.

"That's the understatement of the year," Seamus called out, "Krum is an excellent seeker!"

"He is the best seeker in the last 100 years," added his friend. "I've seen him fly during the Quidditch World Cup 1994. He was incredible."

Hermione who couldn't understand the fascination about flying rolled her eyes. If you didn't know that Ron was discussing Quidditch, one could only guess he was talking about the person he was in love with judged by the dreamy expression he wore. She listened as the boys continued to describe drops and passes and moves. After a while, Seamus got up to order another round of drinks - tea for Hermione, butterbeer for the three boys and another two fire whiskies for himself and Ron. The former followed him saying he would "go take a piss".

Cringing at his behaviour, Hermione smiled apologetically: "Sorry, about that. Sometimes Ron's a little... direct. So tell me," she used this opportunity to change the subject, "will you do further research on the British Doxy population once you've finished here in Hogsmeade?"

"Yes, when I'm done here, I'll be going to Wiltshire. The area is known for its uniquely constructed Doxy nests. You can find them in hollow wall spaces in almost every old property there."

"So you're going to different estates?"

"I've already been to most of the interesting ones. There's only one left: Malfoy Manor." Hermione paled visibly, but Poliakoff didn't notice. "It's one of the oldest manors in the whole of England. A Swedish Magizoologist I know has been there two weeks ago because he heard there were Horklumps. Sadly, during the summer, an extensive reconstruction had taken place including the manor itself as well as the gardens and the cellars," Hermione couldn't suppress a shudder being told about the place she'd so horribly been tortured, "and all the Horklumps were long gone. But he noticed a few Doxies flying out of an upstairs window in the west wing and wrote me about it. So I've sent an owl to the current owners - sadly I don't know them personally - asking if it was possible for me to take a look at that." He smiled at the bushy haired witch waiting for some kind of reaction.

"Th-that s-sounds like... a unique possibility," she finally mentioned.

"It is! And here I am, ready to examine those creatures." Just then, Ron and Seamus, both already staggering slightly, got back to their table levitating a tray full of drinks in front of them. Happy for the distraction, Hermione grabbed her tea from the tray, quickly cast a cooling charm on it and took a sip. Don't panic, she told herself grabbing the cup a little too tightly, he'll stop talking about that place and you'll be fine.

"Oi, Poliakoff! Here's your butterbeer," said Seamus pushing the glass into the Bulgarians hand. Raising his own glass of fire whisky, he shouted "Nazdrave!" and downed the shut in one gulp. Ron followed suit and the two Gryffindors let themselves fall rather unceremoniously unto their chairs.

Tipsy and it's only late afternoon, Hermione noticed despite the state of near-panic she was in. As the boys restarted talking about Quidditch, she made haste to finish her tea. Within minutes she was waving goodbye at the three wizards muttering something about homework and fled into to cool air. Wand in hand, she hurried down the path towards the castle.

Get a grip, she chastised herself mentally, he was only talking about a stupid building and you can't panic whenever someone mentions the manor or one of the Malfoys!


	16. Chapter 15

_Nine (or ten - depending where you live and when you're celebrating it) days left till Christmas. :) I hope to have more time to write during the holidays. Would you like to read a little Christmas-inspired chapter? There are so many possibilites, I can't decide. Anyway: thank you for commenting, following and favorting (I still don't no, whether that's a word). Enjoy this chapter! xoxo_

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Dimitri Poliakoff was a shy, but sensible man, and those character traits had been reinforced by education and society. He had spent the greatest part of his youth under the guidance of his accomplished tutor, not making any friends his age. Once he started his education at the Durmstrang Institute, he quickly realised that he didn't fit in with the mostly Norwegian or Swedish pupils and kept mostly to himself or the other Bulgarian in his year, Viktor Krum. During the Great War, on the contrary to many of his fellow countryman, Poliakoff had tried everything to remain neutral. That is why he had travelled to the United States in order to study and become a Magizoologist.

Having now accomplished said endeavour and earning a sufficient income that allowed him to soon begin more extensive projects, he intended to find a research partner. If possible, a female one for he had always been more comfortable around the fairer sex. If he dared to hope, this research partner would be single. And as its best, she would be wanting to get married for his father had made it very clear that he expected his son to add the next generation of Poliakoffs to the family tree – sooner, rather than later. So it came, that before travelling to Great Britain, Dimitri Poliakoff had made the plan to not only study the British Doxys, but to also find a research partner, and, well, a fitting wife.

His plan did not vary on meeting Harry and his friends. Hermione, although she wasn't really his type, seemed fairly interested in his profession and, if he remembered correctly, was one of the best students at Hogwarts. So, he concluded, she'd be a well-enough research partner and could easily double as a wife. Some inconspicuous enquiries once the witch had left him and the two Gryffindor boys – in his eyes, they had not yet earned the right to be called men – had confirmed his intentions. The girl was indeed single.

The next morning saw two very hung-over Gryffindors sitting at their house table in the buzzing Great Hall. Ron, hair sticking in every direction and cloak buttoned the wrong way, nibbled on a piece of toast and winced whenever a chair scraped the floor. His face resembled that of the ghosts floating across the room in colour. Seamus, maybe even paler than the other boy, just sat there and concentrated on breathing evenly, eyes closed and lips firmly pressed together. When a second year took the seat next to him and accidentally jostled him doing so, he jumped up, slapped a hand across his mouth and sprinted out of the Great Hall. Leaving behind a startled second year, laughing classmates and the disapproving eyes of Headmistress McGonagall, he barely managed to slam the door shut behind him before emptying his stomach in the entrance hall. Hermione, Harry and Ginny had just come down the stairs and stopped dead.

"Ew", the redhead cried out loudly, "that's gross!"

Her friends looked similarly disgusted. None of them felt like helping their classmate, because they all knew that he wasn't really sick but rather suffering from his latest night of drinking.

"I bet, my brother isn't any better. Guys, I'm not hungry at all, I'll just go directly to my divination class. I still need to invent at least two accidents for my weekly forecast." Kissing her boyfriend softly on the lips and waving at Hermione, the witch sidestepped Seamus who was by now retching on his hands and knees.

"We've still got about thirty minutes before potions. Want to take some fresh air?", Harry asked feeling himself getting sick by the sight and sounds in front of him.

"Absolutely," replied his friend having lost her appetite as well.

The two of them turned on their heels and fled the entrance hall. They walked across the castle's vaste estate in companionable silence. November was nearing its end and in the morning, the temperature was now near freezing. Luckily, the morning was rather sunny, so it was at least tolerable without wearing heavy winter cloaks. The attention of the two Gryffindors was soon caught by a figure approaching the castle from the direction of Hogsmeade. They both knew that nobody could enter the school grounds without the Headmistress's permission; still, they slowed down a little and checked their wands. Their concern quickly vanished when they recognised Krum. The Bulgarian greeted them and explained he had been invited by Professor Slughorn for a cup of coffee before classes would start. His appearance that morning was greatly in his favour; he was wearing a fur trimmed cloak that clung to his muscular shoulders. Due to his appointment with the potions professor, he quickly clapped Harry on the shoulder in a friendly manner, kissed Hermione's hand and left. The latter wasn't quite comfortable with this sudden show of affection, but didn't say anything about it. As before, she and the black haired wizard continued their walk in silence. When they re-entered the castle about twenty minutes later, Seamus and his mess had – thanks Merlin – vanished. Nonetheless, they were greeted by another not entirely welcome sight: Draco Malfoy. After an awkward moment, the Slytherin simply nodded and proceeded his way towards the dungeons, so the two Gryffindors followed him downstairs.

They had almost reached the other eighth year students that were already entering the classroom when Draco suddenly froze in his track. Hermione, who had been walking directly behind him, collided with his hard back. In reflex, she reached for his shoulder to stop herself from falling. Threw the thin fabric of Draco's expensive white shirt, she could feel that every muscle was tense. Startled, she looked up and watched as Krum sauntered towards the staircase. Professor Slughorn was shooing the rest of the students inside when the Bulgarian passed them. As he winked at Hermione, she could feel Draco tense up even more. That was when she finally registered that her hand still lay on a very well defined shoulder, her fingertips mere inches from the pale white skin of a certain Slytherin's neck. Quickly, she pulled it away, mumbled "sorry" and rushed to the classroom. Harry, who had also been surprised by the blonde's reaction, was even more stunned when he noticed the hate filled glare, Draco shot at Krum's back. The other wizard always looked at him with utter dislike and sometimes repugnance, but had never shown pure hatred towards the Gryffindor. Not knowing what to do the black haired boy simply asked:

"Are you coming, Malfoy?"

That shook the other wizard out of his trance. He frowned slightly, then, turned to Harry and nodded in affirmation. Together, they walked past a gushing Slughorn and entered the classroom. The sight of 'three extraordinarily talented quidditch players' and the 'fire sparking between them' had just made the old potions professor very happy.

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 _Gasp! Hermione touched him! Aaaaah! *dances in a circle*_


	17. Chapter 16

_Finally, the first sunny Sunday in weeks! I can't believe it. I'm going to spent the afternoon taking a long walk with some friends, but first, I wanted to update. I hope you like this new color ehm chapter. ;) xoxo_

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As the morning had already started in a not so pleasant manner, Hermione wasn't at all surprised that the first class on Monday turned out to be catastrophic as well. Not even twenty minutes into it, Ron managed to blow up his und Goyle's potion which covered the whole room – and yes, literally the _whole_ room and every student and even Slughorn – in a dark blue slime that turned the skin and hair it touched a bright purple. Exasperated, the professor sent everyone to the hospital wing.

"Miss Granger, Mister Malfoy," he called, "seeing as you two are the least purple in the room, please clean up the mess Mister Weasley created. When you're done, you can head up to Madame Pomfrey as well. Just pull the door close behind you, the classroom will lock on its own."

Without waiting for a response from the two students, the potions master hurried out of the room and left them to their task. Malfoy sighed heavily and turned to look at Hermione.

Dark memories of the last time she had been alone in a dungeon with a member of the Malfoys forced their way into her mind bringing with them images of torture. The pain caused from the scar on her arm intensified as it always did when she was reminded of the cursed knife or its owner. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to fight against the panic attack lingering at the edge of her consciousness.

Relax, the girl told herself, you can and you will do it. You're not afraid of him. He didn't torment you. He isn't his father nor is he his aunt. He isn't evil.

"Well," Draco said worry lacing his voice. The pained expression the Gryffindor wore on her face made his stomach turn to ice. He could only guess that she was reliving a hurtful past event, probably somehow connected to him or his family. In an attempt to bring her back to the present he tried again: "Well, we better get started. I don't want that stuff stay on my hands any longer than necessary."

Slowly, Hermione opened her eyes. It took her a moment to focus on the boy in front of her and to understand what he just said. Finally looking at the Slytherin's brightly coloured hands, the witch couldn't contain a small smile. "Purple suits you," mumbled she and pulled out her wand while ignoring the memories – more or less successfully.

"Thanks." He gestured to spots covering her nose and right cheek: "It's not really your colour though."

That earned him a dirty glare from the witch who turned away and started to cast cleaning charms at the tables. With a smirk he added: "I think green would make you shine."

The blond pulled out his wand to join Hermione in cleaning. Startled by his last comment, the witch gaped open mouthed at him.

"What?", asked she.

"Scourgify!" Blue slime disappeared from the black board.

"Malfoy!"

He cast another cleaning charm on one of the work tables.

"Malfoy, what did you mean by saying that?"

"Exactly what I said: green would make you shine."

"Wh- wh- why?"

"Why green would make you shine?" He stopped his spell casting, turned towards a now frowning Hermione and arched an eyebrow. Before she could correct him, because he knew very well that she had meant to ask him _why_ he had said it in the first place and had not wanted him to explain his statement, he continued: "You have the most enticing brown eyes I have ever seen. They remind me of liquid toffee when you're happy or excited, but when you're sad or infuriated, they turn almost the colour of dark chocolate." He stepped closer to her and pushed a stray curl behind her ear slightly brushing her paint stained cheek with his fingertips. "Your hair is this light brown, almost amber colour." Reluctantly, he let his hand drop and turned away again. "I always loved the combination of warm browns and green. For me, it symbolizes life and peace and tranquillity."

The Gryffindor was stunned into silence. Why, oh why does he have to be behaving so confusingly? As she stared at the blond wizard who continued cleaning the classroom, the strangest of feelings started to spread through her body. It warmed her from the inside out and cast a soft blush on her face.

Deciding to deal with his actions and her feelings later, she shook her head and proceeded with the task at hand. Half an hour of silent work later, the blue slime had disappeared and the room had returned to its usual colours. Well, except for the ceiling. Wordlessly agreeing upon it, they "forgot" to charm away the bluish purple blots and smudges on the formerly grey surface.

Together, they left the dungeons to go to the Madame Pomfrey. When they passed a shining armour on their way upstairs, Hermione caught a quick look of her face.

I guess he's right, she thought, purple really isn't my colour.

While Hermione and Malfoy were cleaning the classroom, the other eighth years met Krum on their way to the hospital wing. The Bulgarian had used his visit to Hogwarts to take a stroll through the castle's hallways. What better way to promote his quidditch team in Great Britain than amongst wizard children who could then ask their parents to buy tickets for the Bulgarian games or Bulgarian merchandise?

So when he came across the group of students sporting blue slime on their clothes and brightly purple spots all across their skin and hair, he jovially asked them what had happened. The better part of them just hurried on wanting to get rid of the potion and its effects as soon as possible. Ron and Seamus on the other hand eagerly described how Goyle ruined his and Ron's potion – yes, it was the other way around, but they would never admit that – resulting in the present mess. Hearing about the "disaster" as Ron called it, he said he had some spare time at hand and would accompany them to the hospital wing. Couldn't hurt to promote his team amongst the oldest Hogwarts students as well, now could it?

Upon entering the infirmary, Madame Pomfrey rushed towards the two Gryffindors and ushered them to the few banks beneath the windows where their classmates already sat. The mediwitch summoned a large tube of a pale green paste and competently applied it to purple skin and hair. Ron, who had been the worst exposed to the potion, had to close his mouth and eyes for his whole head was almost glowing purple. Seamus, although less hit by the blue slime, had to close his mouth as well because a really large blot covered the whole lower part of his face.

"You have to leave it on for at least one hour, otherwise the stains will turn permanent," ordered the elderly witch. With the exception of the two before mentioned Gryffindors whose lips couldn't move, the eighth years groaned in unison. Not only did the thick ointment smell really unpleasing, but it also made their skin itch.

"Just stay here and I'll come back to vanish away the paste."

Krum was rather pleased with the turn of events. A whole hour to turn the students into Bulgarian fans. What an opportunity. He quickly summoned a chair and sat down with them. The affected manner in which he immediately tried to start a conversation about Quidditch when the mediwitch had left them didn't help him achieve his goal though. The eighth years were all feeling more uncomfortable the minute and weren't up to talking to anyone. Not even to a famous Quidditch player such as Viktor Krum. To be honest, most of them weren't even listening to him. The only ones who seemed to pay him any attention were his two drinking buddies.

Even when Hermione and Malfoy entered the hospital wing, his audience didn't grow; Draco chose to take a seat as far away from him as possible and Hermione sat down next to Harry, but closed her eyes in exhaustion. Frustrated, the Bulgarian decided to change tactics and started talking about his own time as a Durmstrang student. Harry who was sitting rather close to Krum and couldn't completely ignore his lengthy monolog sat up a little more when the Bulgarian mentioned the Malfoy family. He noticed as Hermione tensed up next to him, but didn't open her eyes. Krum inquired if Draco Malfoy had always been in their year. After receiving his answer by a nodding Ron and Seamus, he asked in a hesitating manner whether they were friends with him to which they furiously shook their heads.

"Well," smirked the wizard, "count yourself lucky. I know him a little more, because our parents used to visit each other for a few weeks during summer when we were younger. The Malfoy family is a noble one, but the youngest Malfoy... well, let's say he isn't all that noble."

Harry perked up his ears. Looking carefully around him, he noticed that nobody but him and Hermione (secretly), plus Ron and Seamus (very openly) were listening to Krum. Not wanting to attract any attention towards himself, he turned his head just a little bit so he could see Hermione's face out of the corner of his eye.

"You may well be surprised, but I have known him too long and too well to not warn you of him."

Seeing the signs of encouragement by his drinking buddies in front of him, he continued:

"You see, the last time we met, it was shortly after the Great War, he tried to throw a nasty curse at me that would have ended my Quidditch career. As I told you, I've known him and his family for the longest time. And I can admit that I care a lot about my acquaintances, most of all about Mrs. Malfoy who never seemed inclined toward the Dark Arts. So when I paid the Manor a visit it was only natural for me to also talk to her and inquire about her wellbeing after the fortunate defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Malfoy went completely crazy, shouted at me and started throwing curse after curse. I can only guess that he was angry that I called the defeat 'fortunate' as he must have been an eager follower, just like his father." Harry frowned slightly and noticed a similar expression on the witch's face next to him. He couldn't imagine Malfoy losing his temper like that; it didn't fit the calm facade the Slytherin always displayed. Besides, he knew that in spite of the Dark Mark his former enemy wasn't a Death Eater and had never wanted to be one. That had been one of the questions everyone was asked during the trials and both, Draco and Narcissa Malfoy, had negated these questions under Veritaserum. He and Hermione had even been present during that interrogation. "I barely managed to leave the Manor in one piece. You can imagine, I was a little concerned when I saw him down in the dungeons earlier. But I guess, with all the professors here, he can't do anything."

Krum began then to speak on more general topics, Hogsmeade, the wizarding part of Great Britain and Quidditch. Noticing that he had still only two real listeners, he shortly after excused himself.

"Harry," whispered Hermione a few minutes later just as Madame Pomfrey came back to take off the now mostly dried green paste.

The dark haired wizard answered quietly: "What's up 'Mione?"

"Do you...," she hesitated.

"Do I what?", asked he in a whisper noticing her worried look.

"Well... Do you... believe what Krum told about what happened at the Manor?"

Harry sighed before answering that he didn't know. "It doesn't really fit Malfoy's character, don't you think? Losing his temper like that? Seems a little too uncharacteristic for him."

"Yeah, I thought the same. And Krum was definitely wrong when he said Draco would have been a follower of Voldemort. He stated the opposite during his trial."

Just then, Madame Pomfrey arrived in front of them and started to vanish the paste applied to their faces. Effectively preventing him from answering to Hermione's last statement, Harry just looked at the bushy haired witch.

I wonder, thought he, if she even realised that she had just called Malfoy by his first name.


	18. Chapter 17

_Hello everyone and happy friday! Yes, I'm already back with a new chapter and another one is done and ANOTHER one is in the making. So I'll probably update again soon. Thank you so much for following and favoriting. And keep the reviews and PMs coming, they really push me to wirte more regularly. Without further ado, Hermione enters the stage. And Harry. And Hagrid. And Poliakoff. And McGonagall as well? And a pink box?! Quit a lot going on here. Enjoy! xoxo_

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Hermione wanted to elaborate what Krum had said about the Malfoys and especially Draco. Though, before she could continue her whispered conversation with Harry, Madame Pomfrey reappeared. With a flick of her wand, she vanished the green paste from each student individually and nodded contentedly when she noticed that skin and hair had returned to their former colour. Only Hannah had to stay for a little longer because she noticed a small purple spot right between her thumb and index finger the mediwitch had missed before and that therefore needed another treatment. Without being asked to do so, Neville offered to wait with the Hufflepuff.

It was almost lunch time by now, so Hermione followed her other classmates down to the Great Hall. She was still all astonishment and concern; she knew not how to believe that Malfoy could be acting so out of character. And yet, hadn't they all been audience to or victim of him hexing others? The answer was yes, but Hermione was convinced that he had changed. Since at least the final battle, she hadn't seen him cast a spell on any Hogwarts student. And never had he caused any _real_ physical harm. The possibility of Krum having endured such a blatant attack from the Slytherin was still startling.

Suddenly, the bushy haired witch stopped dead in her tracks and grabbed Harry who was walking next to her by his wrist. She pulled the boy to the side right in front of the entrance to the Great Hall.

Turning towards her friend, she looked at him with wide eyes. "Harry", she whispered to him not wanting for anyone to overhear them, "Krum said that Draco attacked him blatantly..."

"And?", the dark haired boy couldn't follow her train of thought.

"Harry! Blatantly! Draco is a Slytherin through and through. Slytherins don't do blatantly. Least of all blatantly attack someone!"

"So you think that Krum has lied?"

"I-I...", she hesitated, not sure whether she really wanted to accuse someone of lying, "I don't know. Maybe he twisted the truth a little?" Harry nodded slowly in agreement, but still wasn't completely convinced. "Or he left out part of his story! That has to be it, right?"

"Well, we won't ever know for sure. Krum won't tell us and until you don't ask Malfoy to share his side of what happened, neither will he."

Harry is right, Hermione admitted to herself as she followed him into the Great Hall, I'll probably never know what really happened. But during the rest of the day she could think with certainty on only one point – that Draco, if he _had_ attacked Krum, would have had a good reason to do so.

The next day brought with it a wave of giggling by the arrival of the morning post. Giggling, because apparently Professor McGonagall must have received an invitation to Slughorn's dinner party as well, which she must have accepted as only that would explain why she must have decided to order a new dress robe. Said dress robe arrived in a _very_ _large_ box. In a very large _hot pink_ box sporting the name of the dressmaker in bold white lettering: _Miss Daisy's dainty dresses for the daring witch_. Every eye in the Great Hall followed the two eagle owls as they dropped the _very large hot pink_ box from _Miss Daisy's dainty dresses for the daring witch_ behind a flustered looking Headmistress. Now, don't get this wrong here: no-one was giggling then, only gaping, but we'll come to that one in a moment.

"Poor owls mus' be real' tired for droppin' that huge box here behin' you an' not lookin' for the right person", Hagrid said in his booming voice and rose from his seat at the end of the table, "Le' me take 'em to the owlery an' give that box to the gal who ordered it."

"That won't be necessary, Hagrid", replied the Professor McGonagall, "I ordered something the other night."

Yes, the students were still only gaping by now, but we'll come to that in just a second. Even the professors and the few ghosts sitting in the Great Hall were staring at the witch open mouthed.

"Ye ordered somethin' from _Miss Daisy's_?", Hagrid asked incredulously, his eyes flickering between the _very large hot pink_ box and the Headmistress.

"I did", was the brief answer.

After a few seconds of absolute silence, he continued utterly astonished: "Ye ordered somethin' for _darin'_ witches?" And that is when the giggling started. And it simply wouldn't stop. Not when Hagrid dropped back unto his seat, not when a flushed Headmistress nodded, not when she shrunk the box to fit into her robe, not when she left the Great Hall through a hidden entrance behind the professor's table. It continued well throughout the day whenever someone mentioned a box, or the colour pink, or the word 'daring', which curiously happened quite often. It was so bad, that some professors even ended their classes early.

The prospect of the dinner party was by now fiercely anticipated by almost all the invitees. Some, like Harry, just wished the evening to finally be over and hoped for an early end. Others, such as Hannah or Neville pictured to themselves a fun evening in the society of friends and famous witches or wizards. Lisa Turpin chose to consider it as her ticket to success as an author and had decided to change the title of her planned book into _The greatest history of potioneers_. Pansy Parkinson imagined the evening to turn into her big appearance as Draco Malfoy's dream girl. Much like Professor McGonagall, she had also ordered a new dress robe. Only she hadn't ordered it from a dressmaker as common as _Miss Daisy's_. No, her box arrived all the way from a Parisian couturier right on time on Friday morning. Once her box was dropped behind her, she grabbed it and rose from her seat with a grin that Ron called mad whereas Neville called it frightening. Hermione thought with little pleasure of the dancing Professor Slughorn was most likely to force her into. But she couldn't wait to see a confirmation of her assumption concerning a certain blond Slytherin and a Bulgarian quidditch player. If the later acted in a provoking manner only once, she was sure that must have also been the case when Draco attacked him. The happiness anticipated by Ron and Seamus depended less on the event itself, for they hoped to further their 'friendship' with _the_ Viktor Krum.

"While we most often see him in Hogsmeade," said they, "it'll be even better to meet him here at Hogwarts. The professors will finally see that there are other things more important than Transfiguration or Potions. And being friends with Krum is one of them."

Friday after the last class finished, Hermione decided a quick walk was the best way to escape the hustle and bustle before the dinner party. She still had five hours to get ready, no need to hurry. On her walk, she happened upon Poliakoff. The Magizoologist started at once to describe his research in minute detail. It was pretty interesting at first, but he researched Doxies and even Hogwarts' Miss-Know-It-All could only pretend to be listening to his monologue after a few minutes. Trying to stir the conversation in another direction, she asked him if he had also received an invitation from Professor Slughorn and if he intended to accept it.

"Yes, I'll be attending tonight," said he. "A dinner party is a good way to further acquaintances. Maybe one of the guests has heard about a unique Doxy nest I haven't seen yet. Furthermore, I'm always told to be a good dancer and was hoping to be honoured with your hand, Hermione, for at least one dance."

The bushy haired witch found herself facing a predicament. She had fully planned to only dance when her potions professor forced her to do so; and to dance with Poliakoff! How should she observe Krum and Draco while paying attention to some account or another of Doxies? How should she try to find out what happened between them? There was no help for it, however. Her parents had raised her to (almost) always be polite, so she accepted Poliakoff's proposal with as good a grace as she could. She was a little concerned when he took her hand to place a kiss on it and thank her for his behaviour suggested of something more. It now came to her mind, that just before she had asked about Slughorn's party he had mentioned something about working alone for most of the time and wanting to find a research partner. Seemingly, _she_ was selected as worthy of his beloved Doxies, and of becoming a _partner_ on a whole different level judging by his gallantries. This impression soon turned into conviction. Slowly walking back to the castle, she observed his increasing civilities toward herself, and heard his polite but awkward attempts at complimenting her intelligence and character. Why in Merlin's name had he chosen her? Forcing a smile onto her face, she thanked him for the company and bid him goodbye. Without a look backwards, she hurried inside the entry hall.

If it hadn't been for her plan concerning Krum and Draco, Hermione would simply not go to the dinner party. But as it was, she spent the time left to get ready. So she gathered her hair into a low messy bun, put on some make up and opened her closet to pull out her only nice dress she felt comfortable wearing since the war. It was a pale blush coloured shift dress with lace in the exact same colour on top of it. A slightly darker ribbon accentuated her waist. The skirt just reached her knees, to neckline was high enough to hide her battle scars and, most important, the long sleeves covered up _the_ scar.

Taking a deep breath, she turned around to face the three tasks of the evening:

First, avoid dancing whenever possible.

Second, stay away from Poliakoff and his intentions.

Third, try to found out what happened between Krum and Draco.


	19. Chapter 18

_Happy weekend everyone! My favorite scene from the 2005 movie adaption of Pride and Prejudice is the ball scene. The intensity when Darcy and Lizzy dance is amazing! In the book there is a lot more interaction with Miss Bingley and some more to find about Collins. I decided to shorten those parts a bit and give you a little more Draco/Hermione. I probably won't be able to update next weekend, I'll be in Paris - I know, lucky me. Hope you enjoy this chapter and feel free to leave a review and follow my story. I could need some inspiration for the next chapter, so if you have some ideas, let me know. ;) xoxo_

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Till Hermione entered Professor Slughorn's magically enlarged living room, and looked in vain for Krum among the dark haired wizards there assembled, a doubt of his being present had never occurred to her. The certainty of observing his interactions with Malfoy had not been doubted for a second. She had convinced herself that she would have an answer as to what the Bulgarian had said about being attacked before the end of the dinner party. But in not more than an instant arose the dreadful suspicion of his absence, the absolute fact of which was pronounced by Ron and Seamus whom she briefly talked to when fetching herself a glass of elf-made wine. They were complaining rather loudly about their drinking buddy not being there because he had been obliged to stay in Hogsmeade on business that very night.

This explanation of his absence, though not questioned by the two Gryffindor boys, created some doubt for Hermione. Why would Krum miss this by all means perfect opportunity to promote his team? She was sure that his business couldn't be as important as for him not to grab the chance to talk to influential wizards and witches. She was frowning slightly trying to wrap her head around this, when Draco Malfoy entered the room. Every thought about the Bulgarian left her mind as soon as the blond Slytherin caught her eye. He looked more than uncomfortable lurking near the door and screening the by now rather crowded living room. Oh but he looks good, Hermione thought as she took a sip of her wine only to choke on it immediately. You did not just think that, she told herself while struggling to catch her breath. Her coughing had drawn the attention of none other than the aforementioned Slytherin who promptly strode across the room.

"Are you alright?", inquired he once he had reached the witch.

Not yet being able to speak she simply nodded. His presence didn't help with her wildly beating heart and laboured breathing. There was still this uneasiness, but nothing compared to the almost panic she experienced before whenever she was near him.

Draco grabbed a glass from a tray floating right past them and offered it to her. "Here, drink a bit of water. It'll help."

After a big swig of the cool water, Hermione's breathing finally returned to normal. Well, to almost normal as she was still breathing rather fast. Which, she admitted, wasn't entirely because of her earlier mishap. She could hardly reply to the polite inquiries which the Slytherin approached to make. She was still resolved to find out what happened between him and the Bulgarian, but she wasn't brave enough as to approach the subject directly. Mumbling an excuse about having to say hello to another invitee, she turned away with a degree of nervousness she couldn't explain.

But Hermione was not one to let go of a plan once formed. So when she saw Luna, whom she had not seen that day, she quickly walked over to her friend to consult with her. The Ravenclaw told her that, sometimes, the truth will simply dance in your hand. Hermione smiled at the blonde and slightly shook her head. Who could ever understand Luna _Looney_ Lovegood? Soon the two started discussing another matter troubling the Gryffindor: the oddities of Poliakoff's behaviour. It didn't take long though for said young wizard to approach them and ask Hermione for the dance she promised him. The band had just begun to play and a small dance floor had appeared right in front of the stage next to the fireplace. Forcing a smile on her face, Hermione nodded and took the Bulgarian's hand. You'll manage a dance with him without encouraging further advances, she calmed herself. Said dance, however, brought a not too small amount of distress; it was a dance of mortification. True to his word, Poliakoff was a decent dancer. In his awkward but polite way he complimented Hermione on the colour of her dress ("suiting but conservative"), her hairstyle ("almost neat enough to be allowed in a lab") and the grip of her hand ("steady like a researcher needs it"). He made her uncomfortable as his intentions were becoming clearer and clearer. And just when Hermione thought it couldn't get any worse, he started to describe – in minute detail – a unique Doxy egg he had found that afternoon and that he, at once, had thought about her and how very _capable_ she would have been to handle such an incredible discovery. The moment of her release from him was ecstasy.

She danced next with an Irish auror and a Spanish reporter, because Slughorn had decided she "simply must meet such important and _eligible_ wizards" and pushed the two men towards her. When those dances were over and the band took a short break, she returned to Luna, and was in conversation with her, when she found herself suddenly addressed by Draco who took her so much by surprise in his application for her hand, that, without knowing what she did, she accepted him. He walked away again immediately, and she was left to resent her own want of presence of mind; the other girl tried to console her:

"I dare say you will find him very agreeable. He has changed a lot and he is not evil. We already spoke about that."

Hermione silently agreed, but didn't reply. She was still fretting about why in Merlin's name she had agreed to dance with Draco Malfoy. Once again, her heart was beating wildly and her breathing accelerated.

When the band recommenced, however, and the Slytherin approached to claim her hand, Luna could not help cautioning her in a whisper, not to think too much and not to allow her past judgement to doom the dance before it even started. Hermione made no answer, and followed the blond wizard onto the dance floor. More than one set of eyes focused on the two of them, as Draco took her right hand in his left and put his other hand softly on her back. Hesitantly, she placed her left hand on his shoulder. She could feel his muscles stiffen slightly when she touched him. Pulling the witch a little closer to him, he started to lead her expertly to the music. They danced for some time without speaking a word; and she began to imagine that their silence was to last through the entire dance, and at first was resolved not to break it; till suddenly making the decision to use this opportunity, she made some casual observation on the dinner-party. He replied with a small smile sending a shiver down her spine, and was again silent. After a short pause, she addressed him a second time with: "It is _your_ turn to say something now, Malfoy."

He quirked an eyebrow at her and teased: "You simply can't _not_ talk, can you? Not even while enjoying a dance?"

"That's not...", Hermione started with a blush on her face.

"Not true?", her dance partner chuckled leading her into a spin.

"Well, yes. I mean no. Oh, just leave it be."

Chuckling again, he replied: "As you wish, Hermione."

"Why do you call me that?", she suddenly asked.

"What? Hermione?" She nodded. "It's your name, isn't it?"

"That's not the question here. You used to call me vile names all the time. Why the change of heart?"

"Why the change of heart indeed?", he murmured so lowly, Hermione wasn't sure it was meant to be heard. Taking a deep breath, he continued: "As you said: I used to do it. Now I don't. And I don't think, I'll go back to it."

"You are a strange person, Malfoy."

"Draco."

The Gryffindor looked at him questioningly. None of them noticed, that the music had changed and that they were now dancing to a slow song.

"Please, call me Draco. I don't like being called by my last name anymore. It reminds me of my family. And I don't like most of my family. They did awful things I'll never forgive them."

Hermione swallowed hard feeling the well known suffocating fear rise in her. She froze in her place, her pupils dilated and her sight blurred slightly. Fuck, thought the witch, not another panic attack, not now, not here.

"Hermione." Suddenly her sight shifted back in place and she focussed on the grey eyes staring worriedly at her. "Hermione, breathe." He squeezed her right hand reassuringly.

"S-s-sorry", she stuttered and tried to pull away, but Draco wouldn't let go of her hand.

"It's okay", he muttered leading her back into the dance. Hermione concentrated on his thumb which was lightly caressing her right index finger and tried to calm down.

A few moments later, the Slytherin spoke again: "I can only imagine what you must be feeling. Every time someone reminds me of what happened at the Manor, I nearly lose it. I feel all helpless and powerless again... I still have nightmares about it nearly every night. And you... You who suffered while I merely had to watch..."

Hermione couldn't reply to this, it was too difficult for her to speak about even if Draco's soft caresses kept her in the present. So, they continued their dance until the song ended.

"Thank you for dancing with me", the blond wizard said as he led Hermione from the dance floor. "I hope it wasn't all that bad."

"Not at all", replied she her eyes wide with astonishment, "in contrast to the other three dances I was more or less forced to accept, I rather enjoyed this one."

They awkwardly stood next to each other, neither knowing what to do or say to fill the silence. After a few moments, both started:

"I wanted -"

"Would you -"

Winking at her, Draco said: "You first."

"I, well, I-, I wanted to ask you a question." The Slytherin motioned for her to continue. Deciding to finally act like the Gryffindor she was, she quickly asked: "The other day, in the hospital wing, Viktor Krum said he knew you since you two were younger, but that the last time he went to visit you, you blatantly attacked him."

The effect was immediate. A look of utter disdain overspread his features, but he said not a word, and Hermione, though blaming herself for probably ruining his evening _and_ her attempt to know the truth, continued: "What did really happen?"

Draco sharply turned towards her. "What?"

"Well... I-, I guess there are always two sides of a story. And, well, Krum's version seemed to leave out something important."

"You didn't believe what he said?"

"Oh no, I _do_ believe, that you attacked him. Why should he have lied about that? But I also _do_ believe, that there was a reason for attacking him." Suddenly feeling uncertain, she added, "There was, right?"

Draco nodded vaguely, but seemed desirous of changing the subject. At that moment, Professor Slughorn appeared close to them, meaning to mingle with his guests. Upon perceiving his top students, he stopped with a bow of superior courtesy to compliment them on their dancing.

"I have been most highly pleased indeed. To observe two of my best students this year not only excel in potions, but also in the noble discipline of dancing was a real pleasure. I just mentioned to Headmistress McGonagall that it is evident, Mr. Malfoy, that you belong to the well respected Sacred Twenty-eight. Your dance skills and manners are impeccable, dear boy. Allow me to say, however, that your fair partner doesn't want for anything. Miss Granger, you are perfect as always; but let me not interrupt you any longer. You will not thank me for detaining you from your conversation."

With a brought smile, the potions professor continued weaving through the crowd offering smiles and compliments left and right. Neither Draco nor Hermione knew what to say since their previous subject was also a rather delicate one. Recovering first, the Slytherin turned to his still blushing partner, and said, "That was... rather interesting."

"Indeed."

"I don't care anymore about what society thinks. Sacred Twenty-eight or not, my family's name is tainted forever", said he, with a frown after a moment.

"Not surprisingly, don't you think?", she replied. The blond wizard cringed slightly, but nodded in agreement. Nobody could deny what his father or worse, his aunt, had done. "I remember hearing you proclaim more than once that muggleborn witches and wizards were inferior."

"I did," admitted he with a small voice.

"And now you claim not caring about it anymore?"

"I've changed."

"It is hard to believe. Draco Malfoy, blood purist extraordinaire, denying his past believes."

"May I ask to what these questions tend?"

"I am merely trying to figure you out."

"And are you successful?"

She shook her head. "I do not get you at all. I hear such different accounts of you and see you acting contradictorily; it's confusing!"

"Maybe you just need to get to know me better", said Draco smirking slightly. "If you'll excuse me now, I need to talk to Blaise and Theo. I think they are trying to spike the punch."

While Draco and Hermione had been first dancing and then speaking with one another, a furious Pansy Parkinson watched over them. Her night hadn't turned out as she had planned it. Not. At. All. Draco hadn't even looked at her although she was wearing the most enticing outfit in the whole room. Or, as Professor McGonagall had put it, the most immodest dress ever to be seen in a ball room. That was also the reason why Pansy found herself next to the Headmistress, whose dress robes, by the way, were made of a green, textured fabric. The colour as well as the cut flattered her complexion and weren't _daring_ at all. But back to the Slytherin girl.

"Headmistress", she whined for the thousandth time and tried to shrug away from the firm hand on her shoulder, "you can't possibly keep me by your said the whole evening."

"I very well can and will Miss Parkinson. If you want to stay, you stay by my side, otherwise, you may return to your dorm room. I won't allow you to wander around in a _dress_ like that!" The older witch shot a glance towards her student's cleavage and skirt hem. The first went almost to her navel, the second ended just barely below her bum. "You should have thought better than to order something like _that_."

The Slytherin huffed infuriated and crossed her arms. This evening was meant to show Draco she was his dream girl. And until now, he hadn't even spoken to her! Instead, he had not only talked to the mudblood, but danced with her as well. She couldn't even try to understand his behaviour, but was sure he was following some scheme to humiliate the Gryffindor.

Said witch had in the meantime sought Luna who inquired after her dances with Malfoy. Hermione briefly told her friend about them as well about what little the Slytherin said concerning Krum.

"I told you so, he's changed. Plus, you know that at least Draco had a reason for attacking Krum, even if you don't know what reason he had."

Just then, Poliakoff came up to them, and excitedly told he had just been so fortunate as to make a most important discovery.

"I have found out," said he, "that there is a Malfoy in this room. How wonderfully these sort of things occur! I used this opportunity to thank him for letting me research the Doxies in his family's home. He reacted with a little reservation which I assume is due to the importance of my work and him being quite impressed."

Thankfully, Luna saved Hermione from speaking with the wizard as she asked him about the Bulgarian Doxy population. So she pretended to watch the invitees while mulling over her interaction with Draco Malfoy until she could politely excuse herself and go back up to the Gryffindor tower. A set of grey eyes followed her, as she left the room.


	20. Chapter 19

_Hello everybody! Yeah, I know, it's been waaaay to long! Let's just say that life got pretty crazy. Thank you for your reviews and private messages. They are what got me back to writing again. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter. I didn't have the time to proof-read yet. So if you find any mistakes, just tell me and I'll fix them. I hope to get another chapter done this weekend, but I can't promise. Likes and reviews wouldn't hurt. Well, on you go!_

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The next day opened a new scene on the road from Hogwarts to Hogsmeade. Poliakoff made his declaration in form. Having resolved to do it without loss of time, as his stay only extended till the following Saturday, he set about it in a very orderly manner, including all the arguments, which he supposed beneficial of _the_ _business_. He found Hermione, Ron and Seamus heading towards the wizarding village, late in the afternoon. You could tell from a distance, that both boys were still suffering from last night excesses, whereas his future partner and wife seemed deep in thought. Because no father or mother was available, Poliakoff addressed the two wizards in these words:

"May I hope, Ron, Seamus, for your agreement when I ask for the honour of a moment of privacy with your fair friend Hermione on your way to Hogsmeade?"

Before the Gryffindor had time for anything but to pale from shock, Ron answered instantly, "Oh please! Yes! Certainly. I really need to have a strong hangover potion before I can listen to her ranting about one thing or another. Come, Seamus, let's go ahead. We'lI meet you later at Three Broomsticks, Mione!" His friend in tow, he was already hastening away, when the girl called out:

"Ron, Seamus, don't go. Don't leave me alone. Poliakoff can have nothing to say to me that you two can't hear as well. I am going back to the castle!"

"Stop it, Mione. If he wants you to stay, why deny him?" And upon seeing the witch about to escape, he added: "Merlin, just stay! Seamus and I'll just grab something for this bloody hangover since you won't give us any more of the potion. If I don't get my hands on some soon, you'll be able to see exactly what I ate... well yesterday at the party."

"Please", Seamus added, "my head is killing me. It's worse than a Crutiatus."

Hermione shot an angry glare in the direction of her so called friends' retreating backs and huffed in annoyance. After a moment's consideration she decided that it would be wisest to get it over as soon and as quietly as possible. At least, thought she, there isn't anybody else around to witness this disaster. As soon as she turned to look at Poliakoff, the later began:

"Believe me, my dear Hermione, that your wish to share every piece of knowledge with the world adds even more to your other perfections. You would have been less suitable in my eyes had there _not_ been this desire. You can hardly doubt the purpose of this conversation; my attentions have been too marked to be mistaken. Almost as soon as I met you again, I singled you out as the companion of my future life. But before I am run away with by my feelings on this subject, perhaps it would be best to state my reasons for this union."

The idea of Poliakoff, with all his scientific reserve, being run away with by his feelings, made Hermione so near laughing out loud, that she couldn't use the short pause in his monologue to stop him, and so he continued:

"My reasons for asking are, first, that I think it a right thing for every eligible wizard (like myself) to set an example in our society; secondly, that I am convinced that it will add greatly to my happiness to produce an heir; and thirdly - which perhaps I ought to have mentioned earlier, that it is my own wish to find a research partner. Twice have I been sent an owl by my former teacher, Professor Karkaroff, to give me his opinion (unasked too!) on this subject. If you recall it from the papers, he still has to some time left serving his sentence for his past _miscalculations_. It was but the night before I left Bulgaria, that said letter arrived telling me to look for a partner to – and here I quote – 'get the Doxy-business done'. Karkaroff is, next to me of course and maybe in the near future you, the only person who really understands the importance of researching the Doxy population. Most often, it's him who manages to contact the owners of the long-established wizarding homes. I really do hope that he'll be released from prison soon. Allow me, by the way, to observe, Hermione, that you should be honoured to benefit from the influence of a wizard of such importance. Should you ever be so lucky as to meet him – most likely that would be thanks to my or soon to be our research – you will learn more during one conversation than during a whole year at Hogwarts! You will find his intelligence and knowledge beyond anything I can describe. And your wit, I think, must be acceptable to him, especially when tempered with the respect which his rank will inevitably excite. I think, he will find you acceptable at least. Once we're back in Bulgaria, you will see how well everyone there thinks about him and thanks to that also about my research which he supports. Thus much for my general intention in favour of finding a suitable partner and I flatter myself it will not sink but rather raise me in your esteem. And now nothing is left for me to do, but to assure you of the benefits of this union. So let me add: To fortune I am perfectly indifferent, and shall make no demand of that nature on you or your family. Every Knut, Sickle and Galleon we'll make will inevitably go to our research and that shall be enough."

Merlin help! It was absolutely necessary to stop this soliloquy right now.

"Poliakoff, wait a minute," Hermione cried out. "You forget that I have not yet answered. Let me do without further ado. I thank you for the _compliment_ you are paying me, but it is impossible for me to accept this _union_."

"There is no need to keep pretences," replied the Bulgarian. "You can tell me right away that you'll accept being my partner and helping me to carry on the Poliakoff line. I assure you, I won't think less of you if you don't take the time to ponder the pros and cons of my proposal as every good scientist would do if this were a..."

"Stop!", interrupted Hermione. "I don't know why or how you came to your conclusions. But let me tell you that if a witch tells you no, she means no. I am absolutely serious in my refusal. Neither you nor the Bulgarian Doxies and least of all Karkaroff could make _me_ happy, and I am convinced that I am the last witch in the world who could make you so."

"I cannot imagine that my professor would at all disapprove of you as a research partner. Your grades are still as high as in fourth year, aren't they? And you may be certain when I have the honour of receiving another letter from him again, I shall write back to him telling about your interest in my work that he so cherishes."

"Poliakoff, please! You're not listening to me. I do not want to be your partner – research or marriage-wise!" Exasperated, she turned around and started heading towards Hogsmeade again when the wizard thus addressed her:

"When I do myself the honour of speaking to you next on the subject, I am sure you'll give me a more favourable answer."

"Don't bet on it."

"You must give me leave to flatter myself that my research and my connections with Karkaroff are circumstances highly in my favour; and you should keep in mind, that in spite of your many assets, it is by no means certain that another offer like this may ever be made to you." His face and voice now showed a renewed conviction. "You're not a pureblood, although that's not as important as it once was, you probably don't have any connections to the ministry nor do you have a large fortune. I don't see any wizards asking you into a union in the future. That's why I conclude that you'll change your mind sooner rather than later."

Hermione threw her hands into the air in frustration. "I do assure you one last time that I will. Not. Change. My. Mind. My sense and feelings forbid it in every respect."

"Just wait, Hermione. Maybe you just need a little more time to understand the momentousness of my proposal."

To such obstinacy the Gryffindor couldn't make any reply, and walked away without saying goodbye.

"Why always me?", muttered she angrily approaching the wizarding village. "Why doesn't he get it? There is enough going on right now! I don't have time for stupid proposals! And he didn't even speak of marriage once! _It will add greatly to my happiness to produce an heir_... I'm pretty sure he doesn't even know how to 'produce an heir'!"


	21. Chapter 20

_Don't ask me how I managed, but here is the second chapter this week. As you'll notice, this one is not so close to P &P as some other chapters. Poliakoff is starting to get on my nerves. Keep the reviews coming if you want an update soon. I'm halfway through the next chapter, but work will be hell next week. So I definitely could use some motivational (or critical) comments coming my way. Have an awesome Sunday!_

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Dimitri Poliakoff was not left long to silently contemplate his successful proposal; for Ron and Seamus, having purchased a bottle of each hangover potion and – of course – fire whiskey, were already on their way to the castle. They had passed a furious looking Hermione and decided it would be better to stay away from the witch. As the sky grew heavy with rain clouds, the boys made haste to get back as quickly as possible. But when they arrived at were the Bulgarian was still standing with a bright smile on his face, they inquired what had made him so happy. Upon learning that he had proposed partnership to Hermione ("He does mean marry her, right mate?", a confused Seamus whispered to his friend.) Ron congratulated the dark haired wizard.

That's bloody amazing, thought the Gryffindor, I'll be able to meet Krum in Bulgaria now whenever I'll be visiting with Hermione. And I'll even meet some of the other quidditch players! Poliakoff should know some of them and if not, I'm sure Krum will invite me and Seamus to hang out with him and his team!

Poliakoff received the felicitations, and then proceeded to retell the particulars of the conversation with which he was rather satisfied. The information, however, of his friend's refusal startled Ron. How should he keep up his acquaintance with Krum after the wizard went back to his home country? Hermione marrying a Bulgarian would have been perfect.

"Be assured, mate," he added as the first raindrops fell, "that Mione will change her mind. I'll speak to her about it in the common room this evening. She can be a little headstrong and doesn't know what's best for her."

"What do you mean? Headstrong?", asked Mr. Collins. "If she is really that headstrong maybe she's not that desirable a partner as I thought?"

"Oh no, don't worry. Mione is probably only nervous about your possible life in Bulgaria. But Seamus here and I, we'll come by often and meet your Bulgarian friends as well."

"Oh yeah", added the other Gryffindor finally understanding why Ron was so eager to see their friend married. "Also, Hermione has you and she already knows Viktor Krum. So she won't be lonely at all! You do meet Krum sometimes, don't you mate?"

A rolling thunder prevented Poliakoff from answering. The clouds opened and the rain fell heavily down on the three wizards, so they quickly bid farewell and run to their respective destinations.

Back in Hogsmeade, Hermione still hadn't let go of her anger. Seeking refuge from the downpour, she rushed to Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. She pulled the door open and hurried inside only to bump forcefully into a muscular chest. The collision made her stumble backwards, but a firm hand on her upper arm stopped her from losing her balance.

"What the...", she started angrily at the same time as an amused voice said:

"Careful, Hermione. I'm not always there to catch you if you fall."

Stunned, the bushy haired witch looked up into a pair of grey eyes. The corners of said eyes showed crinkles of the smile, the wearer tried to hide.

"M-M-Malfoy!" The witch blushed furiously as she was wiping a few dripping strands of hair out of her face.

The laughter lines disappeared from the wizard's face which filled with resignation. Letting go of her arm, he muttered dejectedly: "It's Draco."

"Oh, right. Yeah, right. Draco. Sorry, I guess old habits die hard, right?"

The blond pressed his lips together in a tight line and look away. Realising what she just said Hermione gasped in horror. "Merlin, don't get this wrong. I wanted to say... Well... Ahem... I mean you have _somewhat_ changed."

The Slytherin wouldn't have thought it possible, but when he looked back at the girl in front of him, she managed to blush an even deeper red than she already was. "I understand what you mean. Don't get your knickers in a twist about it."

"M-My knickers?!", squeaked Hermione.

To the boy's delight she somehow managed to blush _even_ further. Though, he frowned slightly. "Isn't that a muggle saying? I hear your Gryffindor friends use it all the time."

"No. Yes. I mean, yes it is." To hide her embarrassment, she pulled put her wand to charm herself dry. "Why are you using muggle sayings?"

"Why not?", Draco deadpanned rising an eyebrow. As he waited for her response, an older couple entered the shop. Casting a quick drying spell on themselves they headed to Scrivenshaft to ask him about new self-correcting quill and ink set.

Why not, indeed, Hermione asked herself. "It just took me by surprise, I guess. Sorry."

Her apparent uneasiness made Draco smile. After a moment of awkward silence he said: "I don't want to keep you from making your purchases."

"You're not", replied she although she started to look at the display of quills. "I was trying to distract myself in the village when the downpour started. Scrivenshaft's was simply the nearest shop to get out of the rain."

The Slytherin joined her in front of the display. He grabbed a macaw feather and twirled it between his fingers. "Did you accomplish?"

"Accomplish what?" She turned to him as he carefully put the feather away and grabbed another one.

"To distract yourself from whatever was on your mind."

Hermione was startled by the smirk he sent her way and quickly looked away again. "Actually", she mumbled, "you accomplished to distract me. Thanks for that." You not only distracted me from Poliakoff's stupid proposal, she added silently, but distracted me so much that I'm not even troubled speaking with him.

"You're very welcome, Hermione", said warmly he sending yet another blush unto the witches face.

They continued browsing the shop in companionable silence. Draco ended buying two turquoise macaw feathers that had Hermione rolling her eyes. Of course he had to get the most expensive ones, even if they were indeed beautiful.

A few minutes later, the rain started to drizzle away. When they exited the building Draco excused himself because he had an appointment at the hairdressing salon. With a wink directed at the girl he bid farewell. Hermione couldn't help but admire his Seeker figure as he strolled towards the hairdresser. When he reached the door and grabbed for the handle, she gathered all the Gryffindor courage possible and called his name:

"Draco?"

Hand already on the door knob, the Slytherin turned around. "What's the matter?"

"Don't get your hair cut to short!", the girl shouted before turning around and almost taking in a run in the direction of Hogwarts. She didn't see the dazzling smile on the blond's face.

"Oi! Harry! You won't believe what just happened!" Ron ushered as he let himself fall between his sister and his best friend on the sofa. The common room was already almost empty as dinner would soon be served. "Poliakoff wants Mione to marry him, but she refused him! How could she do something that? Think about how often we could go to Bulgaria and meet up with Krum!"

The black haired wizard raised his eyes from the letter he had just finished writing and looked at his girlfriend. He sighed deeply. "Ron, I'll only say it once and only once. If Hermione doesn't want to marry Poliakoff, let it be. You know as well as I that she won't change her mind."

"But, Bulgaria!"

"Just stop it. Okay? I'm not at my best today. Leave her alone, for my sake if not for your own."

Ron watched his friend in a dither. "That's all you have to say?"

"That's all _we all_ should have to say", Ginny added as she stood up. "Are you to coming down to the Great Hall? I'm starving."

Poliakoff, meanwhile, was meditating in the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest on what had passed. He thought too well of himself to comprehend why Hermione could refuse him.

While looking for some wild Doxies in the old oaks, Luna Lovegood came across him. Well, to be more precise, she literally dropped onto him. Early in the morning, the blonde had climbed the tree with the most branches pointing to the east in order to look for some Blibbering Humdingers. Sometime in the afternoon, she had drifted into a dream filled slumber. The noise of breaking twigs had woken her so suddenly, that she lost her grip and fell. Directly in Poliakoff's outstretched arms who had just then been trying to eyeball the size of a tree trunk.

"Thank you for helping me down that tree", Luna said once her feet were safe on the ground.

"Oh- oh, well. O-of course!", stuttered the Bulgarian and scratched the back of his head.

"Oh, you're bothered by Wrackspurts!" The Ravenclaw nodded knowingly ignoring the look of confusion on the wizard's face. "You have asked her and she told you no. She won't change her mind, you know? If you had ever seen her drink a glass of water, you would know that she rarely changes her opinion." Poliakoff opened his mouth to ask her what she was talking about, but Luna continued without noticing: "Well, if you want to get rid of the Wrackspurts, better start thinking positive thoughts. Like how Blibbering Humdingers are said to sometimes appear in deserted Doxy nests. Isn't the picture beautiful? On creature leaving his home only to make place for another one? Maybe I should try to live in an old Doxy nest as well? Do you think an untraceable extension charm will work?"


	22. Chapter 21

_Hello everyone! I seem to face my first writer's block... which is caused by none other than myself. I just noticed that I don't have a counterpart to the Jane/Bingley storyline (I think I'll just leave it out and replace it somehow?) AND that I'm in need of some new locations for London and Derbyshire and Kent... Any suggestions? But now, please enjoy this chapter. A little drama is on the way!_

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The discussion of Poliakoff's proposal was – thanks to Harry – brought to a quick end, and Hermione had only to suffer from the uncomfortable memories of it, and occasionally from some snide remark of Ron. As for the Bulgarian himself, _his_ feelings were expressed by a sudden disinterest in the Gryffindor friends. Whenever they happened to meet during the next few days, he scarcely ever spoke to Hermione, and the inept attentions which he had shown her were now transferred to Luna, whose ability to listen to him all the while _not_ listen to him was a relief to her friend.

Ron, and to some degree Seamus, were still holding a grudge against the bushy haired witch. Only after Ginny had once again proven that she was a true master of the _Bat_ _-_ _Bogey_ Hex did they stop nagging. Hermione had hoped that since Poliakoff's intention to find a _partner_ didn't work out as he had planned, he might shorten his stay at Hogsmeade, but alas, that wasn't the case. He had always meant to leave on Saturday, and until Saturday he meant to stay.

On Tuesday evening, the eighth year Gryffindors plus Ginny walked once again to the wizarding village to relax after a long day of classes. In the Three broomsticks they happened upon Viktor Krum, so Ron and Seamus invited him to sit with them. While the rest of the group kept to butterbeer, the two boys ordered fire whiskeys for themselves and their drinking buddy. Soon, they started to lament over his absence from Slughorn's party. After the third round, Ron and Seamus were so engrossed in a discussion about Krum's best game that the Bulgarian turned to Hermione. To her, he voluntarily acknowledged that his absence had indeed been self-imposed.

"I realised," said he with a slight slur, "as it was nearly time to go to the party that I had better not meet Malfoy; that to be in the same room with him for so many hours, might be dangerous for everyone present. He had once tried to curse me, so I thought that _unpleasant_ scenes might arise if he saw me again."

The witch highly questioned his reasons, and didn't respond to this. How, wondered she, shall I find out what truly happened?

Luckily, Krum's attention was soon forced away from herself when a drunken Ron ordered yet another round of fire whiskey. As soon as the drinks arrived, the three wizards downed them in one big gulp. Hermione sighed sadly at her friends' drinking behaviour and looked to Ginny who was watching her brother disparagingly. She briefly met the eyes of the redhead. The later nodded in silent understanding and turned to her boyfriend. Harry had been nursing his first butterbeer while silently talking to Neville about their transfiguration essay. When Ginny lightly touched his arm, he turned towards her and listened to what she whispered into his ear. He looked over his girlfriend's shoulder and frowned. Pushing his chair back to stand up, he said:

"It's getting late. I'll return to the castle."

Neville stood up as well and, to the great relief of the two Gryffindor girls, Ron and Seamus reluctantly followed them. Much to Hermione's dismay though, Krum offered to walk them back to the gates of the Hogwarts' grounds. During the walk he paid particular attention to her. She felt forced to make some kind of polite conversation with him all the while trying to keep him at an appropriate distance. Drunken Viktor Krum, she learned that night, was rather touchy feely. When he put his arm around her waist for the third time, she finally had enough. Rather strongly she pushed him away and hastened her pace to catch up with Harry, Ginny and Neville who had been walking ahead of the group.

The next morning, a rumour spread among the house tables in the Great Hall; it concerned the Slytherins. Well, one Slytherin to be precise: Draco Malfoy. It was whispered among the students that, in the early hours of the morning, a wizard from the Ministry had come to Hogwarts. Headmistress McGonagall and Professor Slughorn had waited for him in the entry hall and accompanied the man to the dungeons. For what happened thereafter, at least a dozen different accounts were told and retold. The three most popular variations were:

1\. The Ministry wizard and the professors entered the dungeon. When they asked for Malfoy claiming the boy had used the Avada Kedavara curse on a Hufflepuff's owl, the Slytherin tried in vain to escape. He was put under magical arrest and sent directly to Azkaban via an emergency portkey.

2\. Malfoy had been warned of the Ministry wizard's arrival by a gigantic snake that had suddenly appeared in front of him and had therefore been waiting in a dark corner. When the adults neared him, he stunned all three of them and fled to now live a life hidden in the Scottish mountains.

3\. Although the Ministry wizard and the professors searched the whole dungeon and, with the help of the ghost, the whole castle, Malfoy was nowhere to be found because he had already flown away with a dragon he had hidden in the Dark Forest.

Hermione snorted in indignation upon hearing these rumours. She was among the first Gryffindors to sit down for breakfast, but already three sixth years and a fifth year had asked her about what had happened earlier. Even after all these years at Hogwarts she still couldn't believe how fast even the most absurd story was spread among the students. Truth be told: among the professors as well, but that's not the point now.

A quick look across the hall showed her that Malfoy was not there yet. She wasn't concerned by this. It was still rather early and breakfast would be served for another half an hour. The witch poured herself a cup of tea and started to nibble on a slice of buttered toast. Slowly, more Hogwarts students filled the house tables and the gossiping grew louder. Whenever she heard the great doors open, Hermione would look up from the Daily Prophet that had arrived earlier hoping to see a certain blond wizard appear. Finally, she resigned, folded the newspaper and hurried to her first class. Just before entering the classroom, Ginny suddenly appeared and pulled her a few feet away:

"I overheard a conversation between McGonagall and Slughorn."

"Ginny, I have got Charms right now. The professor will arrive in-"

"I know why the Ministry wizard was looking for Malfoy!" The younger witch quickly looked around the corridor making sure that they were alone. She then quickly resumed what she had learned earlier: Malfoy won't finish his education here at Hogwarts."

"What?", Hermione gaped at her friend. Surely she couldn't be right.

"Well, I didn't get it all, but from what I understood, Malfoy will return to the Manor and a ministry wizard will oversee his studies."

"But why?"

"I don't k-"

"Miss Granger," Professor Flitwick interrupted the hushed conversation, "are you going to join class today?"

"Y-y-yes, of course professor. I'm sorry."

"And you, Miss Weasley. Shouldn't you be in class now as well?"

"On my way!", the younger girl replied and hurried away.

Once at her desk, Hermione didn't pay any attention at all to what the professor was saying. Her thoughts were otherwise occupied.

Why would Malfoy drop out of school? It must be his own doing. He is of age by now. Had he broken any school rules that would have lead to an expulsion she would have heard about it one way or another. So that couldn't be it. Maybe something happened to him? Or what if his mother had fallen ill again? Or what if, well, what if Krum had something to do with this sudden disappearance?

She decided to try to gather more information. Luna almost always knew more than everyone else when the gossiping about one thing or another reached a new high.


	23. Chapter 22

_Here we go again! I still need some ideas for the next locations... Help me there please! You know there must be something in your heads, share it with me please! You guys are awesome by the way. Everytime I got a new follower or a favorite or a review, I sat down and worked on this chapter. So, let's clear the stage for our lovely Luna!_

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Friday found the eighth years and some selected younger students once again in Professor Slughorn's magically enlarged living room. The old wizard had been so content with his dinner party that he decided to host another evening with some special guests sooner rather than later. Among those guests were a few journalists from the Daily Prophet and other smaller papers, the Minister for Magic's new undersecretary, a rather dull middle-aged woman who had recently published a best-selling paper about Myomancy, two members of the Weird Sisters who wouldn't talk to anybody and Dimitri Poliakoff and Viktor Krum.

For supper Hermione was seated between the dull woman who didn't pay her (or anybody else for that matter) any attention and Poliakoff. The Gryffindor relieved that Luna had also been invited because during the chief of the evening her friend was so kind as to listen to the Bulgarian. She took an opportunity of thanking the Ravenclaw.

"I wouldn't know what to say to him after what happened last weekend," said she, "and I am more obliged to you than I can express."

Luna assured the other witch of her satisfaction in being useful. "Don't worry about it Hermione. And, you know, sometimes it's windy, sometimes you lose your left sock and sometimes an acorn drops on your hat."

Although the bushy haired witch didn't fully understand what her friend tried to say, she thought her as amiable as ever. But Luna's kindness extended farther than Hermione had any conception of. Truth be told, she didn't plan to do it, but the blonde secured all of Poliakoff's addresses towards herself. At the end of the night, the Bulgarian bowed over her hand and asked her whether she would meet him the following day. Luna looked him up and down for a few moments. Then, after shrugging her shoulders she replied in her airy manner that she would very much like for him to help her look for wildflower sprites in the early morning. Poliakoff promised to be of assistance to her as best he could. Nobody would have imagined that this promise would lead to another proposal. The wizard was anxious to avoid another refusal, for though feeling almost secure because the Ravenclaw had been nothing but encouraging him to talk about his research on Doxies, he was comparatively diffident since last Saturday. His reception, as was to be accepted, was a little bizarre – don't forget we're talking about Luna Loony Lovegood.

The witch was crouching next to some wildflowers near the Great Lake when she noticed Poliakoff as he walked towards her. Instantly, she cast a silencing charm on him; she couldn't believe that the Bulgarian managed to make so much noise. Sprites preferred the clam above anything! Once Poliakoff had arrived next to her she sternly told him to be quite and remove the charm. In as quite a voice as possibly the wizard made his offer and, after some discussion, almost everything was settled between them to the satisfaction of both. Luna would ask McGonagall to be allowed to finish her studies and take the final exams early. She would write her final paper on Nargels while helping with the research on the British Doxy population. When Poliakoff enquired if she also intended to accept the marriage-part of his proposal, her reply was: "Well, it would make things a lot more complicated, won't it? I always planned to publish my articles as a Lovegood. So for now, I have to decline." The Bulgarian sighed, but nodded in understanding. After all, having a research partner was far more important than having a wife, wasn't it?

The headmistress was that very afternoon applied to for her consent; and it was granted albeit a little hesitantly. Poliakoff's work and his connections to other Magizoologist would offer her student a unique possibility. McGonagall would never admit it, but she secretly hoped that Luna would finally settle on researching more visible creatures. What let the older witch hesitate was that the girl wasn't off age until February. Since both her parents were dead, it lay upon the Headmistress to look after her. Seeing how happy the Ravenclaw was about the opportunity to do some real life research, McGonagall finally agreed to let the girl take her exams right before the winter break.

As had always been his plan, Poliakoff left later that day. Luna was perfectly fine with her decision and the way everything turned out. In the evening, she met with Hermione in the library to tell her all about it.

The possibility of Poliakoff thinking about her friend as a research partner had once occurred to Hermione within the last day or two; but that Luna could actually accept to work with him astonished her greatly and she could not help crying out:

"Leave Hogwarts early to research with Poliakoff? Luna – you can't be serious!"

"Why are you so surprised? You know that I've decided to research Nargels and you know as well what the professors and some students here think about these creatures. I'm pretty sure professor McGonagall still believes that they don't exist even though I have shown her all the proof there is to be found."

Deeply surprised by this sudden development Hermione took a moment to recollect herself. She would miss the quirky girl in front of her terribly, but she also understood her decision. If Luna wanted to become a Magizoologist, she would have to do some hands on field work. And to do so with an already established researcher would provide her with the necessary connections. Also, Hermione was immensely relieved that her friend didn't plan to agree to marry Poliakoff. So she made a strong effort to assure the other girl that she wished her all imaginable happiness with this partnership.

"When will you take your final exams?", the Gryffindor asked.

"Just before winter break. That way, I can pack all my belongings and travel by train to London. I'll make a stop at Diagon Alley to purchase a few things I'll need for my own research. Then, Poliakoff will meet me and we'll head to wherever the next Doxy nest is."

Hermione quietly replied "Okay..." and after an awkward pause, they opened their books and started on their homework. Luna only stayed for an hour and left the bushy haired witch who sat in deep reflexion on what she had heard. It was a long time before she sighed deeply and packed away her still unfinished transfigurations essay. The strangeness of Poliakoff's making two offers of marriage, partnership or whatever it truly was within a week was nothing in comparison of his being now accepted. She had always felt that Luna's opinion of Hogwarts and its professors was not exactly like her own, but she had not supposed it to be possible that the Ravenclaw would have leave the school early. Luna the wife of Poliakoff! Thank Merlin that this humiliating picture would not become a reality anytime soon!


	24. Chapter 23

_This chapter is a little shorter than the last few, but I hope you'll enjoy it. And yes, I'm still trying to stay somewhat close the the Pride and Prejudice storyline (well at least until now) and that means there's no real Dramione in this chapter. But we're getting there. I promise. As always, feel free to leave a comment and follow!_

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Hermione was sitting with Harry and Ginny in the mostly deserted common room, reflecting on what she had heard, and wondering whether she should mention it. On the one hand, she knew that Luna would be okay with telling their friends. On the other hand, she feared Ron's reaction. He hadn't react well when he had learned about her refusal of Poliakoff's _proposal_. So what would he say or do once he knew that Luna had accepted? The golden girl was nervously nibbling on her right thumb when said boy entered through the portrait hole.

"Ron", Ginny asked worriedly as she noticed her brother's expression, "is something wrong?"

"Ha!", he barked out a laugh and gestured wildly. "Wrong? I don't know. Maybe we should ask Mione here if something's wrong!"

"Ronald Weasley! For Merlin's sake, calm down!"

"Oh don't go all mom-like on me, Ginny." Nowhere near calming down, the wizard started to angrily march up and down in front of his sister and two friends.

"Ron, you-", Harry started but was rudely interrupted.

"First, Mione get's that bloody brilliant proposal from Poliakoff. I mean, she could have lived in Bulgaria maybe even as a neighbour to Krum! Then, she refuses to marry Poliakoff and now! Now some Ravenclaw second years are walking down the hallway and talking about how sodding Loony Lovegood accepted the bloody same proposal!"

Hermione didn't care a bit for what Ron thought about her refusal, but she couldn't stand him talking so badly about the other witch. She abruptly stood up, told him in no uncertain way that Luna had indeed accepted to be Poliakoff's research partner, but nothing else. Harry and Ginny tried again to calm Ron down, but he wasn't listening to anyone or anything. When he didn't stop his cursing, Hermione put a stop to his exclamations by casting a silencing charm on him. The redhead was so enraged, that he didn't even notice the fact and continued stomping across the common room.

Hermione took the opportunity to explain to Harry and Ginny what she knew about Luna's plan to finish school early in order to join Poliakoff in his research. Both were surprised, but didn't question the Ravenclaw's decision. Once the witch had set her mind on something – like the existence of Nargels or Wrackspurts – she didn't change it. Still, they were sad that their friend would leave Hogwarts so soon. Ron was a completely different story. The next morning, Hermione's silencing charm had worn off, he was still fuming. A week passed before he could see his friend without scolding her and a month passed away before he could speak to Luna without being rude; well, he told her goodbye when the Christmas break began.

Hermione and Luna's relationship didn't change at all although they didn't see much of each other in the following weeks. The blonde had to spend most of her time preparing for her exams and future research. Hermione didn't want to keep her from studying, but Malfoy's disappearance occupied her mind every day. For a few weeks she had hoped to learn more about why he was suddenly gone from school; the rumours only grew more and more bizarre until she couldn't take it anymore. She finally turned to her friend on the last day of classes. Luna had finished the exams earlier and the two witches were taking a walk around the Great Lake. The Ravenclaw didn't know more than anyone else but had a few more theories. Believe me, Hermione wasn't too fond of any of those. Still, she felt a little better after speaking with somebody who wasn't prejudiced against the Slytherin.

Speaking about Slytherins; Pansy sent Draco an owl the morning after he had disappeared. He didn't respond. She wrote him again the next day, but no response arrived either. Over the next weeks, she constantly sent letters addressed to every Malfoy property she knew of. Still, she didn't get even a line back. After forcing Theo, Blaise and even Gregory to also write letters to Draco didn't result in an answer, her annoyance slowly transformed to fury. No, Pansy Parkinson never once worried if something had happened to the wizard or his relatives or why he suddenly left Hogwarts. She worried about her plan to present herself as Draco's dream girl. He still hadn't invited her for the annual Christmas dinner at the Manor. Maybe she should write to Narcissa about it? Draco had told her not to contact his mother. Nevertheless, it could help advancing her plan. After some contemplation, the young witch decided to wait till a few days before the event itself until she addressed the Malfoy matriarch. That way there would be enough time to prepare for the dinner and to perfect her plan of action. She didn't want to appear desperate, because she wasn't, right?


	25. Chapter 24

_What shal I say? The last months have been crazy, but I hope I'll be able to update more regularly now. Your reviews showed motivated me to continue this story. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter.  
_

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Time passed and suddenly, the winter break was only one week away. The Daily Prophet arrived that Monday during breakfast, and put an end to at least some of the most absurd speculations – yes, pupils were still imagining the weirdest things – concerning the disappearance of Draco Malfoy. The very first page showed a photograph of him supporting his mother leaving St Mungo's. The headline read "Malfoy matriarch's mysterious malady" which made Hermione roll her eyes. What is it with stupid alliterations nowadays, she thought. The short article next to the picture didn't offer any real information though.

 _A very haggard looking Narcissa Malfoy was seen yesterday afternoon leaving St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries in company of her son, Draco Malfoy. We are sorry to say that neither of the two Malfoy were willing to give an interview. Due to the fact that Mister Malfoy should still be at Hogwarts until at least this Friday, we're assuming that the Malfoy matriarch's health condition must be grave. In addition, a missive had been sent to the Prophet's editorial office. Said missive asked to publicly announce that the annual Christmas dinner at the Malfoy mansion won't take place this year; a first in over 283 years! We can only ask ourselves: what has happened to the Malfoy matriarch that she is willing to go this far?_

 _(To learn more about the traditional Christmas dinner at the Malfoy mansion see page 9.)_

Hermione's brows furrowed; the Daily Prophet tended to exaggerate, but even when Rita Skeeter still worked for the newspaper a bit of truth could be found in every article. Her heart was heavy with concern for the Malfoys. That Draco was really fond of his mother and would do anything for her, she was convinced of for a long time. And much as she had always been disposed to dislike the adherence to obsolete pureblood traditions, she could not think without worry over the cancelled Christmas dinner. To be honest, before this year, the witch hardly knew anything about the event. But thanks to Parkinson's overly loud monologues about it, everyone in school was by now rather thoroughly informed. Once more, Hermione looked at the photograph and noticed not only Narcissa Malfoy's haggard face, but also the way she tightly gripped her son's arm for support. She observed the extreme paleness of the latter as well. Yes, Draco was always pale, even more so since sixth year. But in the picture, is skin resembled chalk.

Seeing that none of her Gryffindor friends seemed to be interested in the article or photograph, Hermione decided to try to find Luna and speak with her. That was easier said than done since Luna was excused from classes for her last week at Hogwarts so she could take her final exams. Most of the morning passed before the Gryffindor found her friend who stared out of a window in the middle of a corridor on the fourth floor; she could not help asking:

"Luna, what in Merlin's name are you doing here? Shouldn't you be revising your notes?"

"Hello to you too, Hermione," replied the Ravenclaw wholly undisturbed. "I'm pretty sure that I know everything important for the exams on Friday. They can't be that difficult, right?"

"Not that difficult?! They are your final exams! Final exams are supposed to be difficult and your supposed to be learning until the minute before them!"

Luna looked at her friend and smiley: "But there are more important things today. The wind for example dances beautifully this morning."

Hermione opened and closed her mouth a few times in absolute shock. More important things than the final exams! After a moment, she decided to not continue on this point and took a deep breath: "Well... okay, I uhm... did you..."

"Yes, yes and no."

"What?", the Gryffindor asked confused.

"Yes, I've read the article and yes, I think Mrs. Malfoy is critically ill and no, I don't think she'll live much longer if her condition doesn't improve soon."

The two witches stayed quiet for a while, one looking attentively out of the window, the other watching her friend.

"You should listen to what the wind shows you, Hermione."

"Uhm... what is that?"

"Be open to the unexpected," Luna replied just as a blast threw the window open and blew a single leaf into the corridor. The blonde caught it in the air with a bright smile. "See, just what I might need for my transfiguration exam! An willow leaf!"

Hermione didn't bother to even tell her friend that only wands were allowed in every exam and just shook her head in amused exasperation. "Thanks Luna, I have to go now if I want to be an time for my next class. See you around!"

In between classes, Blaise had read the article out loud to Theo and Greg. After some discussion, they figured that Mrs. Malfoy couldn't be _that_ bad. If it were the case, Draco would have written to them even though he had suddenly disappeared. Or wouldn't he? Greg made the mistake to ask Pansy that same question who snapped at the wizard before storming away. The Slytherin girl didn't seem to care at all about the health of their friend's mother. She was angry, mad, raging with fury. How could they cancel the Christmas dinner? It was meant to be her evening to show off as the perfect pureblood wife. And now this!

Pushing students out of her way, the witch stormed to the dungeons. Once she entered her dormitory and banged to door close, she opened her trunk. She then violently pulled out the hand sewn dress robes that had arrived a few days earlier, tossed them to the ground and cast a rather hefty _Incendio!_ on them. With some satisfaction, she watched the expensive robes burn.

Three floors above her, Viktor Krum – followed by Ron and Seamus, in case you wondered – made another tour through the castle trying to promote the Bulgarian Quidditch team to every student he met. You could hear him boasting about his most important games, but also making snide comments about the Malfoy family whenever he wanted to further dignify himself.


	26. Chapter 25

_Hey guys! I promise, I haven't forgotten this fanfiction and I'm thinking about it a lot. But I simply can't find the time to write. I hope to get a few chapters done during the next two weeks as I'm on vacation. Please give me some input whether you've liked this update or not. xo_

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The week continued to pass rather quickly for some, terribly slowly for others. Most students spent their time doing some last-minute gift shopping or looking for lost clothing items before the Hogwarts Express would take off to London on Friday afternoon. While Luna could still be found staring leisurely out of windows in between her final exams, Hermione was busy making revision schedules and book lists for the Christmas break. She would spend the holidays with her parents whom she hadn't seen nearly enough since their memories had been recuperated. Thoughts about Draco Malfoy and his mother still ghosted through her head, but not nearly as often as they had a few days before. Thursday afternoon, she was sitting in the Gryffindor common room with a thick book in her lap, a piece of parchment in one hand and a quill in the other. All but on task on her revision schedule were crossed off for this day, soon that last one would be done also as she had almost finished said book. With half an ear, the witch listened to Harry and Ginny's conversation. The former had accepted Mrs. Weasley's invitation to spent Christmas at the Burrow, so he and his red-headed girlfriend were planning what to do during their free time. As they had reason to hope to move to Grimmauld Place after their graduation next summer, they wanted to spend some time there as well. Ron was but rarely mentioned as he had proclaimed he only wanted to eat, sleep and do nothing but relax.

The following evening, Hermione had the pleasure of being received by her mother and father on platform 9 ¾. Mr. Granger was a sensible man, greatly interested in everything concerning his daughter's magical education since the day the first letter from Hogwarts arrived. Mrs. Granger was an amiable and extremely intelligent woman, much like her daughter. Seeing the two Granger women next to each other, it was rather clear whom the girl had to thank for her looks.

Due to their kind nature, neither Mr. nor Mrs. Granger bore a grudge for having been obliviated. When Hermione undid the spell, they had been incredibly happy to find her in good health, although they were quite furious when they learned why their daughter had cast the spell and how often she had risked her life during the war.

Hermione's first act upon her arrival back home was to brew a nice cup of tea for herself and her father. They then would sit down and she would describe as precisely as possible the newest spells she had learned. When this was done, it became her turn to talk to her mother while she prepared the dinner and her father watched the news. Mrs. Granger loved to pamper her little girl whenever she was home and hear about what she and her friends had been up to. This evening she wasn't too happy with some of the things she was told.

"I do not blame Ron for seeking Krum's presence," Hermione remarked, "for Ron had always stood in his older brother's shadows and had to prove himself. But mum! It is very hard to see him wasting his time drinking way too much and bathing in the 'glory' that surrounds Krum. His grades are going down more and more, he won't even let me help him… I am sorry to say it of him, but he will fail the final exams if he continues like that. It makes sad, to see that happening to one of my oldest friends."

Mrs. Granger nodded in understanding. "It seems like Ron can't handle life after the war," said she. "I am sorry for how he is wasting his last year at Hogwarts. But these things happen sometimes. A young person, such as your friend, so easily adapts to some situations like the war, but when the situation changes – for the better or for the worse – it can be all the harder to re-adapt. Maybe it'll help Ron to distance himself more from the past once you've graduated."

"If only you were right, mum. But I fear it won't work like that for Ron. He is not suffering from the past. In my opinion, it is more difficult for him to get his life together now that there isn't a clear purpose right in front of him. I don't think he even has plans about what to do after Hogwarts."

"That may easily change in the next months. Give him some time, not everyone can handle traumatising events as well as you, sweetheart."

"How much time should I give him? Weeks and months have already passed and his behaviour is only getting worse… Perhaps I should write to Molly and ask her to talk to him? Not about his life goals in general, but about his drinking? Every time he goes out, it's getting more and more obvious that he had more than just a few glasses. It doesn't matter if he's by himself or if Seamus or someone else accompanies him. What should I do?"

"Oh dear… If you feel it might help with the situation, send a letter to Mrs. Weasley. Spending the Christmas break with his family could also help Ron. A change of scene and of the people he talks to daily might be beneficial."

Hermione wasn't too convinced with her mother's musings.

"I hope," added Mrs. Granger, "that Ron will be his old self soon. Now tell me, how are Harry and Ginny? In your last letter, you said they were planning to move together, right? And what about your other friends?"

"Harry his slowly getting better; thanks to Ginny, I might add. She just notices when he is about to shut himself off and always managed to get through to him. They others are as well as ever. Oh, I forgot to tell you about Luna! You saw me hugging her at King's Cross, the blonde girl with the dreamy expression. Do you know whom I'm talking about?" Mrs. Granger nodded yes. "Well, Luna has accepted a work offer and therefore has already taken all her final exams. I'm sure I'll miss her…"

"That is great for your friend. I hope you two will stay in contact."

"Luna will probably forget to answer my letters," Hermione replied with a laugh. "And then, when I'm expecting her the least, she'll suddenly stand right in front of me."

Mrs. Granger inquired after a few other people whose names she remembered from letters and stories about the magical world. Hermione always loved talking about her professors and how they helped her with her education. Upon mentioning the name Draco Malfoy though, Mrs Granger noticed that her daughter's face suddenly clouded with serious worry, although she didn't say much about him. The older woman found this rather intriguing. The first few years of Hogwarts, her little girl would fight tears whenever the boy was mentioned, and her letter proved that quite a few had fallen. That changed after the third year, when she suddenly got furious when she talked or wrote about him and it changed once again during her daughters sixth school year to something akin to mild concern. How Hermione had felt about the boy during the war, Mrs. Granger didn't know. Her girl had once mentioned that Draco Malfoy had been on the wrong side of the war and that she still had testified in his favour because he was forced to do what he had done.

During dinner that night, Mrs. Granger carefully observed her daughter. She ate with great appetite as she told them about her plans to visit Diagon Alley the next day to meet her friend Luna one last time before her new work started. It was merely a gut feeling, but Mrs. Granger was sure she would be hearing about Draco Malfoy some more in the near future.


	27. Chapter 26

_Author's note at the end. ;)_

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Mrs. Granger's interest in her daughter's feelings towards a certain wizard was furthered the next day by pure chance when Hermione had left for Diagon Alley. Beforehand, the witch had cast a spell on her room that would alarm her mother when the owl bringing the Daily Prophet arrived.

No matter how often I have seen these birds delivering letters and newspapers by now, Mrs. Granger thought as she paid the owl, I won't get used to them.

Curiously, she read the day's headlines. A report about a quidditch game, an ad for colour changing ink, and someone had apparently found a new dragon species. The last bit of information was more than a little worrisome, so she decided to not look further into what was happening in the magical world. If anything of importance _did_ happen Hermione would tell them about it. Mrs. Granger turned to the large desk next to the window. As she put the Daily Prophet down, she noticed a newspaper clipping. The font and layout made it easy for her to identify the clipping as an article from the Daily Prophet as well. Usually, she wasn't a very nosey person, but the piece of paper caught her eye. Someone – most likely her daughter – had highlighted the words " _haggard looking Narcissa_ ", " _St Mungo's_ " und " _grave_ " and added questions above and underneath the text: _What is wrong with N? Offer help to D? Go to St M's?_

Mrs. Granger quickly read the short article. She was surprised to learn that Draco Malfoy had quit Hogwarts as Hermione was so passionate about Luna's decision to finish school early. Why hadn't she mentioned the fact, that another student had left before the end of the school year? It was all quite strange. Still, the fact that the boy's mother seemed to be seriously ill could explain her daughter's worried expression from the day before.

Maybe there is more going on than I've assumed, thought Mrs. Granger as she put the newspaper clipping back on the desk.

In a different part of London, Hermione had gained an important insight: meeting Luna Lovegood in the middle of a very busy Diagon Alley on a cold December morning was _not_ the best idea. They had agreed to meet at the apothecary around nine o'clock. The Gryffindor arrived on time, but her friend was nowhere to be seen. Knowing Luna, she didn't think much about it and contended herself with studying the displayed ingredients for potion-making. Half an hour later, Hermione was getting more and more impatient in front of the building and finally decided to purchase a jar of dragon liver and Billywig stings each. She considered briefly buying a bundle of Knotgrass as well, but decided to pick some of her own in spring and save her Galleons. As she left the apothecary and decided to go to Flourish and Blotts next a dreamy voice remarked:

"You should put the Billywig stings in a wooden box. A Swedish wizard published an essay only last week that Crumple-Horned Snorkacks can be attracted that way. Maybe that way, we'll finally have proof of this creature in Great Britain."

"Hello Luna and uhm… thanks, I'll keep that in mind," Hermione answered with a smile and embraced her friend.

The girls spent an hour and a half shopping for everything the former Ravenclaw needed for her research. Her partnership with Poliakoff would begin the following day. The Bulgarian had already sent her a portkey that would activate with the sunrise to bring Luna to the first Doxy nest they would research together.

When the two witches were done browsing the stores, they went to Florean Fortescue's recently renovated ice cream parlour to enjoy hot chocolates and warm up. Hermione used this opportunity to ask her friend a few important questions. With Luna it was always better to make sure such things as payment, board and lodging where settled. When she asked about the first research project, the former Ravenclaw didn't answer to her liking.

"What do you mean, you don't know where you're going? I thought you would research Ma-Malfoy Manor." Hermione's voice cracked as she pronounced the name.

"We will go there, but first there is another ancient property to visit. Poliakoff had learnt about one of the most uniquely constructed Doxy nests there. He mentioned it in a letter a got yesterday evening."

"And where is this property? Didn't Poliakoff tell you?" The Gryffindor stared at her friend in bewilderment.

"Maybe he has," answered Luna. She closed her eyes for about thirty seconds and hummed a foreign tune. Then, she reopened her eyes. "I think somewhere in Northumberland… It is not important where I'll be going as long as I'll be doing valuable work."

Hermione took a large sip of her hot beverage to hide her expression. To call researching Doxies 'valuable work'… Well, everybody got their own opinion, didn't they? Putting down her now almost empty cup, the bushy haired if Poliakoff had decided to change anything else.

"No, he hasn't mentioned anything. He seems to be inflexible concerning his intentions. Perhaps I should teach him some yoga? That would most likely open him up to different perspectives. Or do you think capoeira would be better suited? Having a common rhythm while working might be helpful as well…"

"I'm not sure…" To herself Hermione wondered what in Merlin's name capoeira was. Was it an ancient wizard ritual she didn't know about? Noting the advanced time, she quickly finished her hot chocolate and said: "Luna, it was awesome to meet you, but I have to go now. I promised my mum to help her decorate our Christmas tree. We always did it together when I was younger and this year, she wanted to do so once again."

The blonde smiled sadly. "My father and I used to add holly to every piece of furniture… It's nice to have traditions like that."

Hermione grabbed her friend's hand and squeezed it comfortingly: "You'll write to me soon, won't you? Hogwarts won't be the same without you."

"I shall depend on hearing from _you_ , Hermione. I don't know when I'll have time to sit down and pen a letter." Both girls got up and put on their coats, scarves and hats.

" _That_ you certainly shall. But I'll need your location first, so don't forget to send a quick note!"

They left the ice cream parlour and made their way towards the next apparition point. Suddenly, Luna stopped and smiled widely at the other witch: "I have a much better proposition: why don't you come to see me? It's far away from places that carry bad memories for you."

"Uhm…," Hermione began, but was almost at once interrupted by her friend.

"I'm positive Poliakoff won't mind having you there as well! You could even help with researching the Doxy nests. Since he asked you first to be his partner, he couldn't complain about that. Oh, it will be so fun to work together. I'll simply sent you a portkey and you can come join us after Christmas!"

Seeing Luna's radiant smile, Hermione could not refuse, though she foresaw little pleasure in the visit. Voluntarily researching Doxies and with Poliakoff to make it worse! If there was an order for being a good friend, she certainly deserved one.

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 _Yep, I'm back again. Already. Hard to believe, I know. Did you like this chapter? For those who wonder: capoeira is the only martial art I've ever tried. It's a combination of dance and acrobatics with music._ _You should totally try it out, it's fun! Or do some yoga poses to get rid of the tension in your shoulders and arms form all the time spent reading. Have a nice day (or night, depending on when you're reading this)! xo_

 _PS: I've another two chapters waiting to be published soon. So keep the reviews coming. ;-)_


	28. Chapter 27

_As promised, here is the next chapter! A bit of Christmas feeling in the middle of spring, but who cares, right? I know the chapter is a little shorter than the last ones, but you'll just have to deal with it. Feel free to follow, favorite and review. I live to read your comments! xo_

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Time passed quickly for Hermione with decorating the Christmas tree, baking (and eating) sugar cookies, singing beloved carols and corresponding with her friends. In a very long letter Ginny told her about the first prank George had played on his mother since his twin brother was killed. Even though it wasn't even a good prank according to the younger witch, she called it an improvement. Christmas would never be the same without Fred, but the family tried to do their best. It apparently helped that Harry was at the Burrow as well since half of her time, Molly was occupied with fretting about the boy and the other half about the rest of her family.

Christmas morning was a pleasant affair at the Granger's. The day started late since everyone slept in, so Mr. Granger brewed a cup of tea for his family that they enjoyed in the festively decorated living room. Hermione still couldn't believe that her father convinced her to charm the Christmas baubles to slowly change from gold to red. When the tea was drunk, gifts were exchanged, thanks given, and a delicious breakfast taken. Afterwards, everybody dressed in their finest attire to go to church. Back home again, the Grangers spent their time reading, talking and enjoying each other's company. Later in the afternoon, a few owls with cards and presents from her friends arrived for Hermione. As it was agreed upon beforehand, she shrank her own parcels and tied them to the birds. That way, the number of owls could be kept as small as possible.

On Boxing Day, an Atlantic puffin knocked on her bedroom window as Hermione was reading one of the textbooks she had brought from Hogwarts. Surprised, she noticed that the bird carried a shimmering blue Doxy wing in its beak. She quickly got up to let the puffin into her room where it dropped its delivery on her desk and immediately left.

Hermione had not at first thought very seriously of travelling to Northumberland. She would be glad not to have to talk to Poliakoff so soon. With Luna's fickleness it wouldn't have surprised her if her friend simply had forgotten to send the portkey. The bushy haired witch took to note that was attached to the wing and read Lunas flowy message:

 _Dear Hermione,_

 _I hope you've had a lovely Holidays with your parents. Did putting the Billywig stings in a wooden box work? I re-read the article I mentioned to you and it said Crumple-Horned Snorkacks love to try to open any sort of wooden container to get to the stings. So, did you see any? I would love to write an article about the first sighting of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks in Great Britain! You must tell me once you're here. The Doxy wing is your Christmas present. Isn't it magnificent? It made me think of floating in the Great Lake during summer solstice. Have you already tried that? The Selkies are usually very talkative that day, you should join me next year. Oh, I almost forgot! The Doxy wing is your portkey as well and will activate at ten o'clocl in the morning on the 27th of December._

 _Love,_

 _Luna_

 _PS: Bring a loaf of stale bread._

Hermione rolled her eyes as she finished the letter. Of course, her friend would be most interested in elusive magical creatures. The post scriptum made her frown. What would she need a loaf of stale bread for? Wasn't there enough food? No, that didn't make any sense at all. In that case, even someone like Luna would ask for more supplies. Sighing, the Gryffindor folded the letter and decided to just do what she was asked to. You never knew.

The desire of seeing Luna soon weakened Hermione's aversion of meeting Poliakoff. Also, she had never been to Northumberland either and was curious to get to know that part the country. What her father told her about it, the landscape would be lovely in winter, hidden under a white blanket of snow. Furthermore, a little change of scenery was not unwelcome for its own sake. She loved spending time with her parents, but they dearly loved their routines and only rarely deviated from those. By now, she was in dire need of some variety in her otherwise calm days.

On the morning of the 27th December, Hermione hugged her parents goodbye. She grabbed the famous beaded bag which she had packed the night before as well as the stale loaf of bread – can't forget that! – and waited for the portkey to activate. When the Doxy wing started to glow softly, she touched the filigree membrane and immediately had the uncomfortable sensation of a hook pulling her to the still unknown location.

The journey only took a few seconds. Abruptly, Hermione felt solid ground beneath her feet again and stumbled slightly. Regaining her momentum, she straightened and found herself in front of a small cottage. An icy wind blew into her face and she could hear waves hitting shore. She shivered in the cold, but thankfully, the small door opened. Then, everything went black...

* * *

 _Yep, I totally did that..._


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